


Doubt

by Spot_On60



Category: A-Team, A-Team (2010), A-Team Movie, The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:30:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He wants this, but is overwhelmed by it. It was as unsettling as it was peaceful. He had so many doubts, but such a desire. And as always the doubts would take the lead."</p><p>Hannibal and Face have doubts about their relationship when they find themselves separated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doubt

"Temp, I love you."

_Truly?_


	2. 1998

**1998**

 

Hannibal worked his way through the crowd of the dance club to the back corner. "I appreciate you calling me," he shook Kelly's hand.

"When I saw who it was I asked Steve to give me a hand. We got him hunkered down back here. When the cops came we showed them our IDs and said we would take care of him," relayed the off duty MP.

He looked over to the table and his drunken LT laying face first in a puddle of beer. Standing next to him was a tall man with his hand holding him by the bicep, ensuring he didn't slide off the barstool. Presumably this was Steve.

Shouting to Steve over the crowd noise and music he asked if there was a men's room nearby. Steve pointed off over his shoulder. Hannibal asked if Steve would please get some paper towels or toilet paper to wipe off the LT's face. As he headed off Hannibal asked Kelly if there had been any damage.

"Only to him," he shouted back. "Took on a group of Marines." Now Hannibal was worried about how badly wounded the young man might be. He had switched off with Steve holding the kid on the barstool. He leaned down to look at his face but it was too dark in the club to see anything but shapes.

Steve returned with a bar rag, "Got this from the cocktail waitress."

As the two MPs propped him up Hannibal wiped his face and did the best he could with the damp shirt, "Is there a back way out of here?"

"Right over there, sir."

"Alright help me get him up." Hannibal moved to pick him up in a fireman's carry.

Kelly didn't move, "We can get him outside, sir."

Not yet passed out the drunk walked, stumble and was dragged between the two. Once under a light in the alley Hannibal could see just about the entire left side of his face would turn into a massive bruise by the afternoon. "Jeezus, what did they hit him with?"

"It was just one big Marine, sir." They readjust him as his arms had raised up and he was beginning to slither down between them. "Guy hit him so hard it spun him around and he smacked that side of his face into a table on the way down."

Hannibal was in close looking at the damage pressing gently to check if his cheekbone or orbital was broken, "I'm going ahead to get the car. Meet you down at the end there in a few minutes."

Getting him in the car was a chore as he crumbled and folded before he made contact with the seat. Hannibal ran back around to the driver side. Taking him from the back under his armpits he dragged the slack and listless body in as Kelly took him under his knees to get his legs in. Between the two of them they had him seated somewhat upright. He was twisted in the passenger seat and was beginning to squirm, "Close the door before he pours back out again." Hannibal was on his knees on the driver's seat. He reached across and pulled the seatbelt around to fasten.

After backing his way out the driver's door he stood and rested his forearms on the roof of the car, "Thank you again, Kelly. You don't know how much I appreciate it. And he does too. Just doesn't know it yet." He would need to stop sometime before this weekend was over to buy a couple of really expensive bottles of liquor for these two.

Kelly laughed, "No problem, sir. I'd want someone to do the same for me. Good night."

Hannibal got back in the car and closed his door, "Sit still. You're not going anywhere til I get you home."

"Hannibal!" His full attention was now on the Major. "I didn't know you were coming." A huge smile covered his face. "Where we goin' now?"

"Home."

"No way, man. It's still early." He was grinning like a maniac, up for an adventure.

Hannibal hit the child locks.

As they pulled away Hannibal was trying to decide if it would be better if his passenger could walk/stumble in the door or if it would be easier to just carry him. He kept his mouth shut while his cargo babbled away next to him. He knew if he responded he would start yelling and the last thing he needed was a fight inside a vehicle with someone seventeen years younger and feeling no pain. He could already feel his back tightening from pulling him into the car from an awkward position.

Parked inside the garage he keyed off the engine. He pressed the button to close the overhead door before getting out, didn't want an escapee. As he opened the door he saw a hand reaching up to the opener, he slapped it away, "No." Again he made to get out and again the hand was headed to the button. Another slap recoiled the hand long enough to grab the device off the visor and pocket it.

He made it into the house by his own propulsion and half way to the stairs before he faltered and fell heavily against his CO. Hannibal bent over and collected him over his shoulder. Heading for the stairs Hannibal felt himself being grabbed.

"You have a nice ass."

"Thank you, now let go of it," he said as he climbed the stairs.

In the first door on the right he deposited the young man on the double bed. Standing up he noted he should take a painkiller before going back to bed. He turned on the bedside lamp, "Okay, arms ups."

"What? What did I do?"

"Your clothes are soaked in beer. Come on, arms up. Let's get this shirt off of you," with that he whisked the shirt off over his head. Taking both of the kid's hands he pulled up and forward, "Up ya go." With him standing Hannibal undid the button and zipper of his jeans. He felt weighted hands on his back as he slid the pants down. Standing upright he eased the man back down to sit on the bed. He could feel the hands again, this time on his shoulders, as he knelt to strip off the shoes, socks and pants. "You need to use the bathroom?"

"No."

"You sure? You're on your own after I go to bed."

"I'm okay."

"Alright." Hannibal pulled the bed covers down to where the LT was sitting. "Come on. Stand up for a second," again taking him by both hands. He worked around the young man, who was holding onto his shoulder for balance, to pull the covers a bit further down the bed.

"Ya know, John? Hey, can I call you John?"

"Sure .... Sit down." As he did he took Hannibal with him. Without Hannibal realizing it he had been embraced around both shoulders. Hannibal had to brace himself with one hand on the bed to keep from falling on top of him.

"Ya know, John. I love you." Hannibal was leaning him to the side, aiming him at a pillow.

"That's nice."

"I don't mean like, 'Hey dude, I love you man.' I really do love you." Hannibal was lifting his legs and getting his feet tucked in under the blankets. "I don't say that to everybody, ya know. Matter o' fact I never say it to anybody."

"No?" Hannibal was pulling the blankets up to his shoulders.

"No."

Hannibal looked over his handy work and was satisfied he had done all he could.

"I really mean it, John. I love you."

Hannibal was now paying attention and heard what he was saying. He leaned over and stroked the kid's face with his knuckles before cupping it in his palm. _That bruising is going to hurt tomorrow._ The head nuzzled into his hand.

"I love you too, Temp."

"You mean that? I mean you don' have to say it jus' cuz I did."

Hannibal stroked his forehead, "I mean it."

"Thanks. I don't think anyone's ever loved me before."

"Well someone does now."

As Face's eyes slid shut, his gaze up to John was replaced by a smile. Hannibal turned off the bedside lamp and made his way to the doorway. A beam of light tried to make its way across the bed, but Hannibal's body foiled it with a shadow. He watched as his troubled young LT sank deeper into his pillow and took in a deep breath. He let it out slowly and Hannibal knew he was asleep.

Closing the door Hannibal knew tomorrow afternoon, when the kid finally woke up, he would be back to his surely self. The walls would be firmly back in place, the mask would be on and this moment would be either forgotten or go unacknowledged. But he could take some pleasure in knowing he was indeed getting through to this emotionally damaged young man. It had been a year since he took him on when no one else wanted him, but he thought it had been worth the wait. He crossed the hallway to his own room closing the door behind him.


	3. 2008

**2008**

 

It was well past midnight when Hannibal arrived back at the team's oversized tent. The retirement celebration appeared to have developed a second wind and the Colonel decided it would be in his best interest to bow out as the party again gained strength and roared on. The first thing he saw as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness in the sleeping area was the silhouette of his XO sitting up on his bed as his two teammates slept on.

"Wasn't expecting to see you up," Hannibal said low as he approached the young man.

He received no response.

At the foot of the bunk now, he saw its occupant was sitting up with his knees bent and his forehead resting on them. His hands were clasped to both sides of his head as though he were in the middle of a sit-up. "Face?"

Nothing.

Stepping up along side the bed he reached his hand down to a shoulder, "Face, can you hear me?" wondering if he was sitting up in his sleep.

"Hannibal," came a choked, barely audible response, "It hurts."

Hannibal switched on the soft reading light next to the bunk and lowered himself to one knee. Looking up, trying to see his lieutenant's face he rested one hand on a knee and the other on top of Face's hand. "What hurts?"

"My head and my neck."

Hannibal could hear hitching in Face's breath. "Look here, Kid."

Face obeyed, lowering his hand and stiffly turning his head only slightly.

"Oh Temp."

His eyes were red and swollen from the tears coursing down his cheeks.

"How long have you been like this?"

"I don't know. It just keeps getting worse."

Hannibal palmed his cheek, feeling a raging heat, holding the back of his hand to the hot forehead, "Have you taken anything?"

"Took some aspirin." He let out a sudden and loud sob, "Oh god it hurts."

"You're too warm. Let's get these blankets off."

"No. I'm cold."

Hannibal, pressed his hand again to the LT's forehead. "You're burning up, Kid." He pulled down one of the two blankets the young man was trying to keep himself wrapped in. The night was reasonably warm yet the Lieutenant was wearing sweat pants and a sweat shirt. The kid almost always slept in boxers. Only occasionally did he even add a T-shirt. "Let's split the difference. I don't want you overheating." He reached again and petted his forehead and cheek. "Think we have a thermometer here somewhere." Hannibal stood with purpose then looked around a little lost.

"It's in the first aid kit," Murdock's voice came from the dark.

"Thank you," Hannibal answered low.

"Is he sick, Boss?"

"Looks that way. He's pretty warm. But go back to sleep. I've got it."

"Can't." He was up and heading to his friend's side. "Hey Facey," he whispered.

The LT briefly raised his bloodshot eyes and shivered. Now Murdock felt his cheek. "Hannibal's gone for the thermometer. You wait here. I'm gonna go rustle up some marshmallows and hot dogs to roast over that head of yours."

Murdock stood and met Hannibal halfway back to the bedside. The Colonel was trying to make sense of the digital thermometer. "Don't bother, Boss. He needs to get to the cash. If he's anywhere close to how hot he feels we can't help him. He needs a doctor."

"Why's everyone up? Don't you know it's going on 0100?" BA was scowling at the Captain.

"The Lieutenant is sick, BA." Hannibal answered for Murdock. "Get dressed."

The two men quickly pulled on pants, shirts and footwear. "Murdock, get the jeep and park it out front. BA, help me with Face."

Going to Face's bed, kneeling again, Hannibal brushed stray hair back off his forehead, "Face? We're taking you to the med tent." Hannibal pulled the blankets down. "Okay, we're going to stand you up."

He lowered the ailing man's legs off the edge of the bed. As Hannibal took an arm to steady him while he stood, Face let out a groan. "I can't."

Hannibal wrapped one of the blankets around his shoulders. Face was trembling. "Carry him out Sergeant."

BA carefully grasped him behind his shoulders and under his knees. Bundling him tightly to his chest he carried the man out to the waiting jeep. Face was set in the back seat where Murdock waited to gather him for the short trip to the CSH. BA hadn't fully taken his seat before the Colonel hit the gas, throwing the Sergeant between the front seats as he scrambled to get his feet inside the vehicle.

BA carried Face still wrapped in the blanket into the surgical hospital with Hannibal and Murdock close behind. An admitting nurse wasted no time directing them to the closest open bed. When set down Face whimpered, curled in a ball and again clasped at his head.

"I'm going to have to ask you to take a seat in the waiting area," the nurse announced as she wrapped a BP cuff around the Lieutenant's arm and began to pump the bulb.

"Gentleman," Hannibal said extending an arm in the direction they came. As BA passed him he dropped a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder and said quietly, "Keep an eye on him," pointing at the retreating pilot with his chin.

"I will, Boss."

"Good man."

After taking as much personal information as Hannibal had for Lt. Peck the nurse informed him, "I'm sorry, sir, but I need to ask you to leave too." She now had a thermometer pressed into the young man's ear.

"No ma'am, I stay with him." The Colonel stepped to the opposite side of the bed laying a hand on his LT's shoulder.

Just as she opened her mouth to again object the ER Physician stepped around the curtain. "Colonel Smith," he addressed the officer with a nod of his head, immediately picking up the notes taken so far of the soldier's vitals. "I'm Colonel Stevens."

"Colonel," Hannibal responded with a nod of his own. He didn't question the doctor's familiarity. He was accustomed to it. People tended to know him.

"You will stay out of the way or I will have the MPs remove you."

"Understood."

"Nurse, I don't think there's any question we'll be setting up an IV. Will you take care of that please?"

The doctor leaned down, "Lt. Peck?" he asked rather loudly.

Face winced and tightened his knees up a little higher.

The doctor was gently dislodging Face's hand from his head. He leaned a little closer, "I'm sorry," he now said just above a whisper. "Loud noises and voices are painful?"

Face barely nodded.

Turning to the Colonel, "Tell me what you can."

Hannibal relayed the events from the time he returned from the party.

"Has he been unwell recently? A cold? Sinus problems? A headache previous to tonight? Any missions he would have come in contact with sick civilians?"

"He did mention his sinuses were bothering him."

"And was he prescribed anything for it?"

"I don't think he did anything about it. Just worked through it."

"Mmm hmm." The doctor was checking Face's pupils while the nurse crowded Hannibal away to insert an IV needle in the back of Face's hand.

Hannibal didn't like the sound of the doctor's nonverbal assessment. "What are you thinking?"

"Meningitis. More specifically a bacterial meningitis as a result of sinusitis." The doctor hovered close to Face again, "Lieutenant, we need to perform a procedure to determine our treatment options. You will be given a local anesthetic and fluid will be removed from your spine to test. Do you understand?"

Face again barely moved as he nodded and said, "Hurts."

"I know, son." He rubbed Face's shoulder and added, "We need to do this test so we know what we're dealing with. Then I can prescribe the appropriate pain med for you. So let's get started, okay?"

Face whispered, "Okay."

"Colonel Smith, I am going to have to ask you to step out. I will call you back just as soon as we finish."

"No. I will be staying with him."

Stevens told the nurse to have the LT prepared for a lumbar puncture then walked around the bed to the Colonel, dropping an arm behind his shoulders to guide him away, "He will have a local. He won't feel a thing from the procedure. We'll be done in half an hour or so. I want to start and finish as quickly as possible. If it is what I think it is the pain he is experiencing is excruciating and I want to medicate him as soon as possible. He's suffering, Colonel. Don't make things more difficult for us and him." He paused to let that fully register. "I understand other members of your team are here. Now would be a good time to update them." The doctor gave him a reassuring smile, "I'll have you back in here just as soon as we finish."

Hannibal slipped back to Face on the opposite side of the bed and leaned forward to look in his eyes. His hand instinctively went to Face's head, but he stopped himself, not wanting to cause his XO any additional pain. He rested his hand on his shoulder instead, "I'm going to step out while they do this, but I'll be back just as soon as they're done. Okay, Kid?" Face's eyes were open, but not focused.

"Okay."

Relief washed across BA's face as the Colonel approached. From the look on the pilot's face and his hands clutched together at his chest, it was obvious the stress of worrying was beginning to weigh on him. BA could easily babysit any child. Babysitting an adult was difficult, though he was doing his best. Hannibal stepped between them draping an arm over both and began his report.

 

Settled into another bed out of the ER with IVs of antibiotics and fluids, Face's fellow team members were allowed in to see him the next morning. Hannibal, of course, had been at his side for the remainder of the night.

The LT was exhausted from the long early morning hours just prior. He had received a generous loading dose of morphine and was hooked up to a self-administer pump which made having his head and neck part of his body acceptable once again. The pain wasn't completely gone and he felt dopey.

Through what was left of the night he would open his eyes to the comforting sight of Hannibal nearby. Rousing again he registered early daylight through his closed eyes. He felt as though he were being watched. Opening his eyes he was a bit startled when he saw all three men around his bed. They were dead quiet and looking at him intently.

He closed his eyes, "You're staring," he mumbled.

This little phrase broke the spell and each of them physically relax just a little. Murdock could no longer stand the quiet. It had been a long night. Taking his friend's hand he started babbling, "You okay there, Faceman? Don't need your brains boiling up like a big ole haggis sittin' on your shoulders. I know everyone thinks you're so handsome and people like the looks of you, but I like what's inside that pretty little head o' yours. We can't have this. It won't do. Nope,nope,nope. You need to get better cause..." Hannibal set his hand on the Captain's shoulder to steady him; bringing the rambling pilot back down to the ground.

Rubbing across the back of Murdock's shoulder, "Shhhh...take a breath, Captain."

Face did his best under the circumstances to reassure his oversensitive and overprotective friend, "I'm pretty tired, but I'll be okay buddy," giving his hand a weak squeeze.

"Crazy and I are gonna get going, get some sleep. But the Boss is going to stay with you," added BA.

Face smiled at BA then up at Hannibal, who unconsciously mirrored him.

BA wrapped a large hand around one of Face's feet and admonished him to get some sleep.

"We'll be back later."

"Okay."

Face and Hannibal listened as the two men left. Murdock again picked up his ramblings, obviously overwhelmed, with BA doing his absolute best to soothe him.  
Face again looked up to Hannibal. "You don't need to stay. Why don't you catch up with them? Get a ride back." Then looking at the door, in the direction the two other men had just taken, "Murdock needs you more than I do. BA loses patience with him."

"BA is doing great with him. And he'll be much better after he gets some sleep." Hannibal did not mention all of the team members were now on preventative antibiotics and restricted to quarters due to the contagious nature of the illness for forty-eight hours. Hannibal took Face's hand in one of his own and couldn't resist again petting his boy's head, "My place is with my downed man." He pulled the small bedside chair closer and sat, wrapping his other hand around the LT's wrist. "Still feel cold?"

"Yeah, a little."

Hannibal pulled the blanket up further to his chin and over his shoulder as he rolled to his side. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks Hannibal. You know, I really don't feel so good."

"I know."


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal didn't set out to be the last resort for wayward boys. He had evolved into it over a progression of increasingly difficult young men culminating into his most trying assignment - one Second Lt. Templeton A. Peck.

The LT was on his way out. It was a mystery to Hannibal how this surely young man had made it as far as he had without already being given the boot by means of a court marshal. He was well on his way to it when he was pawned off on the Colonel.

The Army had a problem with the junior officer. He was arrogant, hostile, insubordinate, an active con artist and an all around PITA, but he was also one of the best strategic tactical planning testers and marksmen it had ever produced. His skill and proficiency were of such great value the Army wanted to take every avenue available to effectively put those talents to use. If Hannibal couldn't turn the troublemaker around there would be a lot of head shaking over the loss.

The typical troubled youth assigned to the Colonel was a classic misunderstood lad who needed only the correct amount of both discipline and understanding to see him on his way. But Face, Face was close to irreparably damaged. From being dropped off at a Catholic home for boys at an age old enough to understand he was being abandoned to being both loved and hated in equal parts for his extraordinary good looks, young Templeton had an over amplified and skewed view of how life is lived.

It of course began with being traumatized by the knowledge he had been dumped, but not really knowing why; although, he worked a reason out in his own head. He had been abandoned, obviously to him, because he wasn't something worth keeping. If there was something about him worth keeping he would have been.

He hadn't been able to communicate to the priests and nuns his name, age, address, phone number or mother's name other than "Mommy". At the age of approximately four his speech was still a little sloppy and what he was able to answer wasn't understood. It was decided a name of great presence would encourage the waif when in fact it became a burden to carry.

As he grew into a beautiful child and handsome teenager, he became a favorite pet of adults and an inducer of envy among his peers. He learned the male equivalent of batting his eyelashes to get his way with the adults and how to brush off his peers with arrogance. As a result he had charmed his way to little usefulness with few if any friends to rely or fall back on. He didn't know how to be a friend or how to accept friendship offered to him by others. Trust was not a part of his makeup. Neither was loyalty. And although he could and had said the words, he didn't actually feel love. Didn't feel it projected too him, didn't feel anything but apathy in return. There was something dead inside him.

Due to his success as a young conman his education was filled with holes a truck could be driven through. While he was perfecting his talents of persuasion he was falling behind in a base education. Young Templeton Peck could easily double talk his way to passing his courses without learning the material; what he considered a win. He was smart. Very smart. More often than not, too smart for his own good. He did, however, excel in communication. He took pride in it. He took pride in that and his analytical abilities. Putting those two together had served him well throughout his teenage years. He learned to read people and manipulate them.

But for all that, he still didn't know his real name. Nor did he know his real birthday or parent's names or if he had siblings or cousins or anyone, if just given a chance, who would give a damn about the young man enough to see through the exterior to the corpse of the frightened, abandoned child. Not only see it and recognize it for what it was, but put some effort into reviving it.

That is until he was assigned to one Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith.

Hannibal determined the base problem, but knew there was no quick fix for it. Face had lived most of his life sure in the knowledge he wasn't worthy, he wasn't deserving. It wasn't something he knew consciously, it was something instinctive. He wasn't good enough to be kept.

His anger at the situation had foiled attempts at settling him in an adoption or in any of the foster homes that were tried. It had caused him to run away from the orphanage several years too soon, landing him on the streets, doing what he had to do to survive. It caused him to lie about his age in order to join the Army too young. It had caused him to run through too many other commanders who threw there hands up in defeat. It caused him to live in a perpetual self fulfilling prophecy. If he was going to be thrown away, he was going to be sure it was for a damned good reason, so he spent an inordinate amount of time sabotaging himself. Few saw through the front he put up and those that did couldn't quite put their finger on the exact problem or have the patience to work through it with him.

Though there wasn't a magic bullet to quickly repair what was so terribly wrong with the young man, to Hannibal it was as clear as the nose on one's face what the problem was. However, taking the tattered shreds of the LT's all but nonexistent self esteem and building them into something Face could use and fall back on would be a years long process. But Hannibal looked at it as a way to tap into that superior brain of the young man and also having access to a top ranked sharpshooter/sniper. He would take the kid's otherwise undesirable proclivities and turn them to his and the boy's favor. And one thing Hannibal had was all the time in the world.

His personal life had fallen apart and him almost with it when Sarah died. If it wasn't for the Army he wouldn't have been able to function. Normally confining, the restrictive nature of the beast allowed him to go about his way on autopilot. He muddled through until he finally realized it no longer felt like he was slogging through mud to get through the day. With his once storybook life behind him on the day his marriage ground to a halt, he immersed himself in being a Major in the U.S. Army 75th Ranger Rgiment.

Hannibal was never someone who strove for the next promotion. He's never mapped out an ever upwardly mobile career path. He is a man who takes pride in a job well done. And in his position as the leader of one of the most elite Ranger units, there was plenty to be proud of. Even when offers were made, he felt he could best serve right where he was. Sure, the day would probably come when he felt going out on missions would be better suited to men younger than himself. When that day came he would be in a position to declare he was ready to wear stars, let's get on with it.

He watched as other unit leaders kept a certain distance between themselves and their men. A sometimes arrogant superiority. But he, while maintaining the respect and obedience of his subordinates, was more one of them than others in his position. Hannibal's men saw him as human rather than removed. They would walk through fire for him knowing he would do the same for any of them. The now First Lieutenant Peck was no exception, would in fact lead the way.

Hannibal and Face had developed a unique relationship. After peeling away layer upon layer of defenses Hannibal was as close to the core of his Lieutenant as he thought he could accomplish. He had been, at least for the most part, unflappable in dealing with the young man's belligerence and transgressions. He was never a cheerleader for the kid's accomplishments, but it was always clear when he was proud of Face. And the quiet favor became something Face came to crave.

The Colonel always expected great things from the LT, but never in a way that made them seem insurmountable. He learned if his Colonel had faith in him he had no doubts in himself. If his Colonel thought something maybe a bit out of reach, Face could always count on Hannibal to be by his side, confident they could accomplish anything together.

He was proud of and admired the man Face had grown into. Steady and faithful he was a bigger asset to Hannibal's unit than he had ever imagined he could be. Intelligent, humane, loyal and funny as hell. Face wasn't a clown, but incredibly clever and had a quick wit. He was supportive of any and all members who drifted in and out of their unit, up to and especially including BA and Murdock. For lack of a better term, Face mothered his fellow team members. Always finding just the right items to make their lives a little better in and out of the war zone.

As Hannibal's XO he anticipated the Colonel's needs. Be it helping document and file actual paperwork or guiding Hannibal through the maize of the U.S. Army's computer programs to having a cigar in hand when the Colonel found himself patting empty pockets. His input into strategy was always fresh and welcome. His marksmanship skills were among the best in the Army making him invaluable in the field. He always had his Colonel's back. And Hannibal was in love with him. Had been for years.

 

Face's illness came three weeks prior to the team rotating out and heading back to Benning. They were scheduled for one mission prior to leaving which didn't necessitate a sniper. Hannibal went to General Morrison and hand picked Face's fill in. Enough other commanders owed him for his lending out Face. There was no question when Hannibal made his preference known. It was a simple overnight goodwill venture with no surprises and they returned without incident.

They would be leaving ahead of schedule. He couldn't wait to get everyone back to the States, but especially Face. He didn't need to be recuperating in a field hospital somewhere in a Middle East desert. Not when Hannibal owned a three bedroom, off-base home.

The house was comfortable and efficient without being cramped. Located in a neighborhood populated with few other military personnel it had a fully equipped, eat-in kitchen, widescreen TV in the living room, finished basement and a spacious fenced backyard. Hannibal had heard of it going for a ridiculously small amount. Priced to sell as the former occupants were divorcing and wanted it gone.

Hannibal, of course, used the large master suite with an attached bath and walk-in closet. Face lived there as well, giving up his own small studio since he spent more time with his Colonel than at his own place. He had his own room across from Hannibal's. Though they both had on-base housing, BA and Murdock shared the third room with the two twin beds when the nights ran long or if they simply came by and stayed for the company.

Before leaving for the last mission Hannibal made arrangements to fly the four of them back to GA. After the abbreviated team's return Hannibal rushed through his post mission paperwork. Knowing they faced months of downtime while his XO recuperated he called in favors and asked for new ones. He arranged for BA to visit with his mother in Chicago, then return to take part in an advanced mechanical engineering R&D program. Murdock would be temporarily reassigned to his alma mater, Ranger Flight Company - Fort Benning as a flight instructor.

Face had been released to the Colonel to transport him home. They all flew to Kuwait on military transport and transferred to an Army contracted commercial fight which took them to Germany. He sent his two healthy boys on to GA after a two hour layover via a commercial flight. He and his sick boy were taken to Landstuhl Medical where Face was checked and cleared for further travel before continuing on. After what should have been an overnight turned into a two night stay in Germany, they too flew to the States on a commercial airliner with an unscheduled layover at Logan in Boston.

BA met them at the airport and was surprised to see Face in a wheelchair. "What happened, Boss." BA asked eyeing the chair.

"It's been a long journey," the Colonel replied, dropping a hand on his XO's shoulder.

"I'm really okay, BA. But Hannibal insisted on the the chair." Face tried to flash a megawatt smile at the Sergeant and the Sergeant saw right through it. Instead of radiance it had more of the appearance of a marquee with a few too many bulbs burned out.

Face looked worse for wear. Besides an overall pallor to his skin, his eyes appeared sunken and dull. The dark circles under them attested to the Lieutenant's exhaustion. His handsome face was drawn and it was obvious his already lean body had lost significant weight since the onset of his illness. Rather than taking them to the parking garage, BA settled them at the far end of Arrivals, then went alone to retrieve the car from the garage.

Face staged a valiant comeback to transfer himself from wheelchair to car with only Hannibal's assistance. BA loaded the trunk as Hannibal made sure Face was secured in his seatbelt and his door was firmly closed. As the Sergeant unlocked the chair in order to roll it back in the terminal he said quietly to the Colonel, "Good thing I told Crazy he didn't need to be comin' along for this ride." Hannibal nodded in agreement. He turned to take the chair inside when a skycap approached saying he would take care of it. BA slipped him a tip before hurrying around the car to the driver's seat.

BA felt as though he was transporting precious cargo as he drove the two men from Atlanta to Benning. Hannibal made some small talk with BA, but the close to two hour drive was silent for the most part. Face stared out his window only participating when asked a direct question. The two front seat passengers just looked at each other and knew he had reached his limit when he answered, "Probably green," when asked if he was looking forward to a nap. BA checked the rear view and saw the young man sitting up straight staring out the window.

Having heard the car pull in the driveway and the sharp sound of a door closing, Murdock excitedly ran out the front door. He pulled up short after Hannibal stepped to the side to support Face as he prepared to walk to the front door. Murdock waved his clenched hands about low at his sides as he watched Hannibal and Face take a couple of tentative steps forward.

"Make yo' self useful, Murdock," BA said intending for the pilot to help him with the bags.

Instead, Hannibal watched with pride as he pulled himself together, shaking off his worry induced anxiety knowing he had to be strong for his friend. He stood up straight and took several solid steps forward, "I'm so glad you're home. You look so tired, Facey."

Face looked up from concentrating on the sidewalk in front of him and gave his friend the best he could, a thin smile, "Hi buddy."

Murdock gave him his most sincere lopsided grin, "Hi Temp, let me give you a hand there." Taking one hand in his own and supporting Face's elbow with the other, he and Hannibal guided the LT into the house.

It was slow going directing the overtired and weak Face through the foyer, along the back wall of the living room and toward the steps to the upstairs bedrooms. BA brought up the rear with bags. "Crazy. You take these," the Sergeant said dropping the bags to the ground. Stepping around to the side of their LT he took Face's arm and wrapped it around his own neck, "Hang on to my neck lil' bro," and scooped him up, pulling him close to his chest, to carry the rest of the way.

"Don't BA. Come on, put me down."

"Quit yo squirmin' 'fore I drop you." BA had him up the stairs and down the hallway in a matter of seconds. He was starting to turn right into Face's room when he heard Hannibal behind him.

"Take him to my room, BA."

BA turned left instead and deposited Face on the edge of Hannibal's monster, California King bed. "I feel like a little kid," the LT whined.

"Yeah, well you movin' like a lil' ole man."

"This isn't my room." Face had a look of utter confusion.

Hannibal was coming through the doorway, "It's my room, Kid. It's quieter than the other rooms. Can't hear the street noise or the washer and dryer. And this bathroom is closer for you than using the one down the hall."

"I can't take your room Hannibal."

"Shush." Then to the other two, "Murdock, go to Face's room and get a clean T-shirt and sleep pants. BA, in that smaller bag are his prescriptions. Pull those out and go get us a glass of water." All while he was barking orders Hannibal was removing Face's jacket and had knelt down to remove his shoes. "Want to keep your socks on kid? Your feet feel a little cold."

Face still wasn't sure about all of this, but looked down to Hannibal and said, "Okay."

Murdock was back with the requested items, "I brought him some fresh briefs and some thick socks too."

"Arms up, Kid." Face didn't know why the Colonel wanted his hands up, but obeyed anyway. He was just so exhausted. His shirt was whisked off over his head and replaced with the clean T-shirt. Before he knew it Hannibal was back on his knee switching the socks he had been wearing with the thick polar fleece pair.

"Hannibal, I need to use the bathroom."

As the two of them made their way to the bath BA returned with the glass of water. Hannibal told him to just leave it and the same to Murdock when he asked what should be done with the bags. Said they could go. He would get Face situated and in bed.

A short time later Murdock noticed the front door was still open and a bag lying in the entry. It had proven to be one too many for BA to carry. He had dropped it there meaning to go back for it. Murdock closed the door and told BA he would take it up.

At the the master suite doorway he took in the sight. Face was now on the other side of the bed under the covers, rolled on his side, facing away. Hannibal, sitting along side, was stroking his hair and murmuring something to him Murdock couldn't make out. He leaned down and kissed Face on the temple. Straightening up he saw the pilot in the doorway. He silently lifted his head and eyebrows in question. Murdock lifted the bag to show him. Hannibal pointed with his chin to the other bags, all the while caressing their LT's hair.

Murdock deposited the bag with the others then went around the bed to the two men. He was clutching and unclutching one hand over the other. As he approached, Hannibal reached out and clasped his wrist for a moment. The strain on the Captain was starting to show.

Murdock looked down and saw Face was sleeping. He too reached and brushed the fading carmel hair. "He looks so fragile," barely loud enough to be heard.

"Doctor says he'll be fine. He just needs rest and time," just as softly. Taking Murdock's wrist again, "We'll take good care of him, won't we?"

Murdock nodded vigorously then returned his attention to his friend looking so helpless. He felt if he stayed longer he would begin to laugh. Not a fun laugh. Not the kind of laugh he shared so often with his buddy, but a nervous giggle. He couldn't do that. It would wake up Facey and that wouldn't be taking good care of him, would it? He touched Face's head again and left the room as quietly as he could.

Downstairs BA had settled himself on the sofa and had tuned in one of the sports channels on cable. He looked up when Murdock came around the couch with a short circuited expression on his face. To his credit he didn't fuss when the Captain sat beside him a little too close. Nor were there protests when Murdock inched his way closer until he was right up against BA's arm. Face would have lifted his arm to let his friend burrow in, but this was enough for now.


	5. Chapter 5

Hannibal took two weeks off to care for Face instead of having to readmit him to the hospital. He monitored his doses of prescriptions, cooked for him and helped him bathe and shave. He assisted him in his room and helped him down the stairs to watch TV or later, sit on the patio for some fresh air. The days began to have an ebb and flow to them. Hannibal took a satisfying pleasure in caring for his charge.

Face ate up the attention. He felt such a sense of security being ministered to by his CO. He was particularly enjoying studying the other man. Though they lived together while deployed and stateside and socialized whether on active duty or not, he felt he was witnessing a whole new side to this man he so admired and trusted. Face noticed how often he smiled and huffed or chuckled low, all the way down in his chest. It was something he had been aware of previously, but never really saw how often the Colonel found humor around him. 

And his hands. Face would find himself staring at Hannibal's hands. As elegant as the the rest of the man. Hannibal was a well trained fighting machine. His hands could be deadly on their own or wielding a weapon. But Face was watching those hands carefully open and select the correct amounts of tiny, in comparison, pills to be doled out. He watched as they busied themselves with kitchen knife skills while preparing their meals. He was amazed at their keyboarding abilities. Hannibal was an old fashioned touch typist. Could easily keep up in a secretarial pool. And often, the hands touched him. 

They were comforting. Hannibal was always a bit hands-on with all of his boys. A squeeze on the arm or shoulder to convey appreciation for a job well done, or a hard slap on the back in response to a joke well told. Or as he had when any of his boys were injured and in a hospital, holding a hand bedside. Often while seated, Face was accustomed to receiving a warm touch to his head as a father would administer to a favorite child. Something that was reserved for him alone. Though they now had a small permanent team, Face always felt those touches to his head were an acknowledgement of their longer relationship together.

But while he was ill Hannibal stroking his head or face became even more common. There was sometimes a quiet hand rested on the top of his head or a gentle grasp on the back of his neck as Hannibal stood behind where Face sat. Or he would feel the stroke of knuckles down his cheek when Hannibal would check on him before going to bed at night. Face could feel himself healing in response to Hannibal's touch. He could almost feel the Colonel may feel for him the way he felt toward the Colonel. He was in love with Hannibal. Had been for as long as he could remember.

As Face's recovery progressed Hannibal went back to work, starting just in the mornings then moving on to longer and longer days. Face did his best to repay his CO's kindness by cleaning, doing laundry or preparing a meal. Unfortunately any of these tasks proved too taxing for the patient. Hannibal would return home to a shining house or beautifully prepared meal and an exhausted Face sleeping soundly on the sofa.

And so it went for the next seven weeks.

 

Hannibal was woken by the sounds of Face restlessly tossing and moaning in his sleep. He opened his eyes and listened to be sure it was something he actually heard and not a memory from his own dreams. A whimper came from across the hall. 

He padded to the threshold of the master bedroom and called softly, "Face?" The answer was even more distressed.

He went to Face's side and laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "Face." 

Face responded by reaching out with his hand and with another whimper.

Taking the hand in his own while rubbing up and down his XO's bicep he said a little louder, "Come on, Kid. Wake up." He sat on the bed, hip to hip.

Face woke with a start and a small yelp. He stared at his Colonel, eyes wide, a look of disbelief frozen there. Hannibal palmed the side of his face and along his jaw. Without warning, Face lunged forward wrapping his arms around Hannibal's neck, "You're still here," he whispered into the man's chest.

Surprised, Hannibal automatically embraced Face in return, "Of course I'm here." He felt Face shudder as he buried his nose into Hannibal's shoulder. Employing long strokes up and down the length of Face's back muscles he murmured, "Shhh...you were dreaming, Kid. It's okay."

Loosening his hold on his Colonel, Face sniffed and said in a shaken voice, "Oh god Hannibal. I'm sorry." He was embarrassed, but still shaken.

Hannibal unabashedly took advantage of the situation for an extra few seconds, holding Face to him. He gave the young man a firm hug.

"Morrison betrayed you."

"What? Are you talking about your dream?"

"Yeah. He let you take the fall for a mission gone bad. He knew it was bad from the start."

Hannibal was easing him back down to the bed, "Well that's not something that will ever happen. Russ and I go back a long way." He was rearranging the blankets to smooth them and pull them over Face's chest.

"And then you were gone. We couldn't find you."

"Just a dream, Temp. Go back to sleep." Realizing he was tucking in a full grown man he started to rise.

Face scrambled to free an arm and reached for Hannibal grabbing a wrist, "Stay here?"

Hannibal hesitated then acquiesced, "For a little while." 

Face moved over giving Hannibal room on the bed where he stretched out on his back. Temp was immediately on him, curling his hands into the side of Hannibal's waist and worked his head close to the Colonel's arm, who obligingly lifted it. His senses heightened as Face pressed his forehead into Hannibal's ribs. 

"Would you ever betray us Hannibal?"

"Never. Now get some sleep." 

Hannibal was still there when he woke the next morning. He was under the covers with his arms encircling the younger man about the shoulders. Face's head was tucked under his chin and was breathing softly down onto his chest. He wondered at this need for affection and reassurance. Hannibal couldn't resist giving him a kiss on top of his head before untangling himself to get up for work.


	6. Chapter 6

Face was leaning against the doorway. "Why did you agree to go without me?" Face couldn't hide the hurt in his voice, "We work _together_. You and me."

Hannibal was leaning back against the kitchen counter, his hands grasping the Formica on either side, "It's not my choice, Kid." Looking up from the floor he added, "You're not well enough."

"Oh bullshit."

"Face please. Don't be like this." Hannibal was stressed.

"Like what, Boss?" he sputtered.

"Like a pissy teenager throwing a temper tantrum." As soon as it was out of his mouth he was sorry.

 _Oh shit_.

Face's head came forward slightly, his mouth dropped open. An incredulous, defiant look on his face. But his body screamed of insecurity. His arms went around his waist, his subconscious way of hugging and comforting himself. Hannibal hadn't seen the gesture in years.

Hannibal crossed the room to him in three long strides. Surprising himself as much as Face when he wrapped his arms around him. "Oh god Temp, I'm so sorry." What was he thinking? Of course Face's reaction to the news of the rest of the team being deployed would be to register abandonment. Knowing it was the kid's deepest hurt he had just thoughtlessly rubbed salt into that freshly reopened wound.

He had felt privileged to be the only one who was allowed so deep into his inner world and here he was dismissing him. Even Sosa wasn't permitted a peek into those depths. Unfortunately what Sosa was given had been thrown back at him and was told it wasn't needed. Wasn't good enough to keep.

Hannibal had a train wreck on his hands after she was gone. He had spent long hours listening to the heartbroken man replay everything that he didn't do wrong, but thought he had. He had entertained him with functions and just the two of them throwing a few back. He had given him more responsibility to occupy his mind and stepped up training to exhaust his body. Between him and his other two boys they were able to pilot that storm, seeing Face safely through.

He knew better than to not be sensitive to the tumultuous emotions that were given life by this current turn of events. He knew for all of Face's bravery, cunning and intelligence this was an area of personal pain and doubt that may never be sound. It was an area where Face's maturity and independence crumbled. And he was nothing short of an ass for the verbal slap in the face he had just handed out. It would have been sharp for anyone else, but not destructive as it was for this man.

Holding him now he stroked the length of Face's back, "I'm so very sorry. I'm frustrated. I don't want us to go without you either. It kept me up all night. I was awake trying to come up with a way for you to come too or for us to be allowed to stay here." He took the sides of young man's head in his hands guiding it toward him, leaving a quiet kiss on his forehead.

As he leaned back Face dropped his head, looking at the floor. He didn't know how to respond to the kiss. It wasn't unwelcome coming from Hannibal. But he didn't know if he should reciprocate, so he didn't. "I'm sorry, John. Need to man up here."

He pulled away going into the living room with Hannibal following close behind. He flopped onto the sofa. A move that looked suspiciously like a teenager to Hannibal, who wisely didn't note the similarity out loud. Instead he said, "You have nothing to be sorry for. This is a blow. I understand."

Hannibal sat next to him, draping an arm across his shoulders. He was rewarded with Face leaning into his side. "What am I suppose to do alone here?"

"Well I thought of something last night. Would you be interested in assisting here on the firing range? I could arrange for you to help with Bennington Phase Ranger training."

"You think I could do that?"

"Do I think it can be set up or do I think you're capable?"

"Yeah."

Hannibal chuckled low in his throat, a sound Face had always found soothing. "Yes to both."

"Okay," sounding less enthused than resigned.

"I think it'll work well for you. You could do just a few hours a week. It would be low pressure and give you plenty of time to recuperate."

"But I feel so much better now. I could go with you."

"Temp. The doctors won't release you. And I can see you're not back one hundred percent." He pulled the LT in just a bit closer. He noticed they had slipped into their habit of using given names when alone. "Everyone's biggest concern is for your wellbeing."

"But John we haven't been separated like this since we've been together."

"I know. It's going to be hard for me too. Two, three months can be a long time." Hannibal brushed his chin across the top of Face's head. "And I know it's not just me you'll miss. Or who will miss you, for that matter."

"Yeah, Murdock's my best friend."

"I know."

"And BA? He's like a grumpy big brother AND the best spotter I've ever worked with. .... You're all my family, John. But you and me..."

It was true the two men hadn't been separated for any serious length of time. In general, where the Colonel went so did his Lieutenant. There had been only a couple of missions the Colonel had gone on without his LT by his side. Face had actually gone on more without Hannibal. His skills as a sniper in demand by other teams, but only occasionally and grudgingly allowed by his commander.

Face tentatively rested his hand on Hannibal's stomach. He looked up to the Colonel, "What am I going to do without you?"

Hannibal lowered his head, Face raised his. Both were unsure. Face closed his eyes when he felt John's breath whispering on his skin. He leaned in imperceivably. His hand became a loose fist he moved to light on John's chest. Neither of them moved again for what seemed an eternity. They both felt apprehension and fear. They could still stop this. They could still quit if either or both wanted to.

Hannibal just barely touched Temp's nose with his own and realized he was holding his breath. It was Face who brushed his nose across. He let out a warm breath that traveled along John's throat, penetrating his collar. Hannibal turned his head, sliding his cheek along Face's. Temp brushed his lips along Hannibal's jaw. They moved in together and met in a simple, chaste kiss. Hannibal could breathe again.

John petted Face's hair and smiled lightly when those impossibly blue eyes looked up to him. The LT sat up a little, repositioned. Another sweet kiss. He worked one hand behind and high on the Colonel's back. His other slid from Hannibal's chest, back down to his stomach then around to his side. Hannibal turned, leaned in and kissed him again. Brushing the smooth lips, not taking. Face licked across his lips, asking permission to enter. Hannibal obliged and stroked the young man's tongue with his own.

"I don't want to leave you Temp." He kissed Face's cheek and jaw then returned to his warm lips, gathering him close.

Face moved in fully, embracing Hannibal in his arms, wrapping his thigh over Hannibal's. The sensation of this man under him triggered a release for Face. He was flooded with endorphins. It was as though he was hearing something he always wanted to hear without knowing. The hardness and bulk of the man's body, so unlike the softness of a woman, gave him a thrill so different, and exceeded his imagination. All of the strength held within the confines of these muscles, the thought that he could be physically hurt by this man, but the knowledge he never would heated him through.

He trusted Hannibal. Outside of the Colonel this feeling of complete and utter trust contained a power that was foreign to him. A feeling that was taken for granted by most people drew him in. Drew him closer. He wanted to swallow the man. He wanted to somehow possess him. The pull was overpowering.

The surge by his boy was welcomed by Hannibal. Almost from the start, he had strong feelings for the troubled young man, but never believed they would come to anything more than friendship. Aside from his relationships with Leslie and Sosa, he had been a serial dater. The kid was well acquainted with romance, but Hannibal didn't think he had experience with other men, nor had he seen any interest shown to him. He was slightly taken aback by Face's enthusiasm but also pleasantly surprised by it. This was something he had yearned for. He could feel himself beginning to melt. With one obvious exception all rigidity in his body was loosening. He was becoming pliant in this man's hands and arms and mouth. They fit together perfectly. Perhaps he had missed previous signs.


	7. Chapter 7

In the master bedroom Hannibal asked if it was his first time, first time with a man.

"Yeah, well like this." Dropping his head as he mumbled, "When I was a kid a priest did some things to me."

"I'm sorry Face. I didn't know."

"Why would you?" He looked determinedly to his left, "I've never told anyone."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Looking him in the eye, "With you? Yes."

Hannibal knew that tone, knew there was no uncertainty. He smiled, "We can stop anytime. Just tell me. Okay?"

Face smiled back, "Okay." And then humbled the man to his core, "I trust you."

Hannibal stripped them down. He removed his own shirt before moving to Face. "Let's see." He unbuttoned the younger man's shirt and slid his hands under it, around to Temp's back. The sensation of his hardened hands along the soft skin caused him to gently rut. Moving his hands upward, he brought them to the front and over his shoulders, sliding the shirt off then down his arms, dropping it to the floor. Running his tongue and lips over the skin of Face's neck and shoulder brought out a shiver in his younger companion.

Face looked at Hannibal's flesh pulled tightly over his well formed chest and arm muscles. He touched them tentatively, "Is this alright?"

Hannibal ran his own hands up and down Face's arms taking in the muscles there. Stopping to knead his biceps, almost as a demonstration, "It's more than alright," he whispered as his head tilted approaching Face's ear.

Face shivered again has he listened to the wet resonance of Hannibal's mouth kissing his ear. The moist reverberations dove deep into him causing him to smile, tilt his head and raise his shoulder. Hannibal backed away to watch the effect he had on the man. With his head still tipped Face opened his eyes to Hannibal smiling at him. Part of his nervousness washed away with the smile he returned.

Without conscious thought his arms went around Hannibal's wide shoulders and he offered his mouth again to his Colonel who accepted him with a deep kiss. Hannibal took Face's hand while he slid to the side of his mouth then to his cheek. He pressed his own cheek to Face's and whispered, "Come."

Holding Face's hand he was moving backwards to the bed leading the young man there. He took Face by the shoulders, turning him and gently pressed him to the bed before sitting next to him along the edge. Wrapping Face in his arms he leaned in for another penetrating kiss then eased away. With one hand he held his jaw on either side of his chin. With the other he stroked that beautiful face, from the temple into his hair. "Are you alright?"

Face sucked in his lower lip and nodded yes.

Hannibal kissed his cheek before bending down, removing his own shoes and socks. Face leaned forward as though he would do the same, but Hannibal laid a hand on his arm to quiet him. He stood to open the button and fly to his own jeans, stopping there to caress that face once more. Face looked up at him giving him a shy smile.

It was a smile he had seen so many times before. It was a smile reserved for him and him alone. It could be heartbreaking in its desire to please or it could be heart melting in its shyness. It was the corridor to Templeton's heart. Hannibal slipped his jeans down taking his briefs with them. After stepping out of them he stood in front of Face.

He was uninhibited by his nakedness and erection. He stood before Face allowing the younger man to take him in. Face had seen Hannibal in the nude before, but never aroused as he was now. He was intimidated by the man's size, but the longer Hannibal presented himself the more accustomed he became to the sight. When he took in a deep breath and let out a slow, cleansing sigh Hannibal went to one knee in front of him. He removed Face's shoes then socks.

He stood again offering his hand, palm up. Face took it and stood. Hannibal forcefully pulled him in an embrace as he plunged into his mouth with his own. His hands grabbed and kneaded encouraging Face to do the same. He held firmly to the young man's shoulders then stroked down his back working his way to the swell of his tightly muscled ass. He kneaded then rubbed, concentrated on Face mirroring his movements. Opening his palms he lightly circled the young man's ass, indirectly guiding his partner to do the same for him.

Face sighed again. Hannibal was pleased. He could feel him relaxing. Leaving him partially clothed was designed to reduce his tension. Allow him to accept Hannibal without feeling self conscious.

Hannibal again caressed his face. He couldn't do it enough and Face couldn't get enough of the tactile sensations. Reaching down to the waistband, Hannibal's hands made their way to the button and fly of Face's jeans, opening them. He slipped the pants down Face's thighs letting them drop out of his hands as he moved to grasp his hips. Tilting his own hips forward he rutted his erection against Face's.

"Jeezus, John." Face's hands went to the top of Hannibal's shoulders while his head dropped forward.

Hannibal's cock made an involuntary jerk when he heard his given name. "Lie down, Temp."

Face laid himself on the bed. His abdominal muscles contracted deeply as Hannibal now lying beside him, ran his hand across his stomach, and then down, between his slightly jutting hips. Supporting himself on one elbow Hannibal leaned in to kiss the beautiful young man in his bed. His hand taking hold of his cock, moving up then down in firm determination. Circling the head with his thumb, dipping into its slit.

Face reached to take Hannibal's. His hand was gently returned to his side. "This is for you," was whispered in his ear. Grasping his erection again Hannibal's mouth slid along his neck, tracing down his throat to his chest, stopping briefly to lick a nipple. Face's chin moved skyward as he groaned.

Hannibal rolled over to the nightstand and after rummaging blindly he came up with a tube. He returned to Face and petted his erection then palmed his way to his balls, stopping to roll them. He gently manipulated one side then the other, then lifting them together gave them a careful stretch. His fingers travelled further until they met the resistance of thighs. He worked his hand between them and gently encouraged them to open.

He briefly looked up to find Face still with his head back, eyes closed. He continued with his caresses, now along the perineum, adding pressure just in front of his entrance. Face moaned again. Keeping the pressure on, he slicked one finger then circled his entrance. The muscles there sucked slightly inward. He kept his motions firm and steady until Face relaxed once more. Carefully he inserted the one finger, slowly to the second knuckle. Face froze. The outer ring of muscles clenched down tight and he was holding his breath. Hannibal kissed his stomach, "Are you alright?"

Face was looking down at him, "I don't know if I can do this."

Hannibal smiled and kissed again. He really didn't want to stop. Face was so warm and sweet inside, but, "Alright my boy." He slipped out and wiped the extra slick from his finger to the bed sheet then lifted Face's cock up to meet his mouth. Licking around the tip, he pressed the point of his tongue into the slit then carefully wrapped his lips around the crown, sucking lightly. He eyed Face and saw him slightly wide-eyed staring straight up at the ceiling. He could see he was going too fast. He began to kiss his way up Temp's chest and throat, not stopping until he reached that soft, warm mouth.

Slowly he positioned himself between Face's legs giving a gentle thrust, then another. "Okay?" Face relaxed and grasped his shoulders. The younger man was once more kissing him back, participating. With another thrust Face responded in kind. Soon they were moving in unison and the young man broke from the kiss, focusing attention on their motion instead.

Supporting himself on one elbow, Hannibal stroked up Face's side. The velvet softness of his skin broke the older man's concentration. _He feels so fine_. After slipping along the gentle slope of the neck with his fingertips he moved his hand down reaching between them, taking both of their erections, clasping them together in his large hand and again coordinated their motions.

Face's movements soon became erratic and more powerful, then stopped as he gasped and held his breath. Hannibal too stopped moving, feeling Face pumping between them. The knowledge he was responsible for the pleasure Temp was feeling brought him to the very edge. Two more thrusts sent him over the precipice. He grasped around the smooth, slightly trembling body below him as arms encircled him. Burying himself into Face's neck he listened to the light panting as the aftershocks of his orgasm faded.

Lifting himself to his elbows he smiled down and was met with a smile beaming up at him. Face looked so incredibly happy his own smile broadened as he huffed. Another kiss and he sat up with his legs under him. He ran his hands up and down Face's spread thighs, admiring the handsome body laying in front of him. Face reached up to grasp behind his own neck, tilted his head and grinned.

"Wait here. Don't move." Hannibal was up and in the bathroom in no time.

Temp called after him, "I wasn't going anywhere. I live here."

Face absently traced out patterns in the creamy deposits. The room smelled like sex. He could hear water running and after a few minutes Hannibal was back with a moist hot-towel to wipe their combined cum from his stomach. He saw Hannibal had already cleaned himself.

With one more firm wipe Hannibal said, "There." He looked to Temp's eyes and smiled down. He made it almost to the bathroom doorway before he tossed the towel in and returned to bed. Arranging the sheet and blankets over them he gathered a sleepy Face to him, back to chest. He hugged him around his chest and whispered in his ear, "My sweet boy." Face wrapped his hands around Hannibal's forearms and squeezed.

As Face's breathing slid into a deep and steady rhythm and his grip on his arms relaxed Hannibal felt the melting sensation again. He was loose and content. A lightness came over him and he drifted with it. He took a deep breath and sighed, sinking into his pillow and the nape of Face's neck. He couldn't think of a time he felt as comfortable and at ease, he was a puddle in the bed.

 

In the morning Face woke alone. As the sun rose he was still on his side, the arms that wrapped around him throughout the night were now gone. Gazing out the window, watching the rich colors fill the sky, his arms in front of him bent at the elbows and crossed at the wrists. One hand held a fist full of pillowcase, the other empty, fingers lightly curled. His thoughts were a swirl. Different aspects darting in and out of his mind, fleeting images making it impossible for him to settle on any one part. He wants this, but is overwhelmed by it. It was as unsettling as it was peaceful. He had so many doubts, but such a desire. And as always the doubts would take the lead.

He loved the Colonel, had for years. He could appreciate a handsome man as well as anyone, but he'd denied it to himself that his attraction to Hannibal was a romantic love. He told himself it was the love one would have for their father. But honestly, how would he know what that was? Hannibal had been his lifeboat on the sea he had been cast adrift on called his life. He admired and found himself basking in Hannibal's steady strength. At the same time he could feel the man's unwavering affection for him. He didn't understand what the Colonel drew from him. He had taken it as he was playing the role of a son to this career soldier. A child who had grown to adulthood. Something Hannibal had been denied. It wasn't as though there were ever any questions or whispers about the man. Face could attest he was no stranger to women. The idea Face was special enough to illicit similar feelings he had for Hannibal was beyond him.

Thinking of it now, he was stymied by the prospect the Colonel feels the same towards him. Like Pavlov's hapless subject he too has an ingrained response. Only his stimuli are declarations of affection and his conditioned response is to be wary. If history repeats, he will dissect his and Hannibal's feelings and inevitably prove their worthlessness, an association born of his own self-assessment.

Was Hannibal only attracted to him physically? He knew better than anyone did, beauty is only skin deep. He saw himself as the perfect example. A lifetime of being admired and adored for his looks. But, nothing of value found beneath that pretty exterior.

Will everything he's enjoyed in his relationship with Hannibal come crashing down? Is this just a fling for Hannibal? Will he only be disappointed again? Will he imagine there's more there, more available to him than there really is? Wouldn't be the first time, now would it?

He had stopped his lover last night from entering him further. He was hoping he hadn't ruined it, but it stunned him how clearly it brought back a picture of Father Shea to his mind. But the rest was all at once sensual, exciting, powerful, and just so nice. He had bedded assertive women, but he had never felt so willingly taken as he had last night. Feeling John's strength surrounding him, yet being handled so gently.  
_"This is for you."_  
The memory of it tightened in his chest and he realized he was curling his toes.

He heard footsteps approaching the partially closed door and twisted his body over to see Hannibal coming in the room. He was fully dressed and carried a travel mug.  
"You're awake," he said while circling the bed. Setting the vessel on the nightstand, he sat on the bed, "I brought you your coffee."

Temp had turned back again and was now propped up on his elbow. He eyed the travel mug with suspicion ,"Is that a hint I should be going?"

Hannibal furrowed his brow, looked at him confused and lightly shook his head, "I don't know what you mean."

Still looking at the tall stainless cylinder, "The travel mug. Should I take it and go?"

Then Hannibal got it and chuckled, but it took him a moment to realize Face was serious. _Oh boy_. They had worked through so many of the kid's anxieties, in a strange way, hearing his uncertainty warmed him. Hannibal inwardly grinned at the knowledge Face dropped all pretenses with him. Yet on the other hand he was concerned about an occurrence of what appeared to be Face's slide towards depression. The kid's sense of humor was waning. He was so very serious lately. Smiling he shook his head, "I didn't know how long you would be sleeping. I wanted it here waiting for you, but didn't want it getting cold." He pressed down on Face's shoulder, "Lie down. Relax."

As Temp eased back down to the pillow, Hannibal stroked his hair and could see him calming. They found they both took such pleasure from this, Hannibal caressing him with Face melting into it. "I have meetings most of today, but should be back by six or so. You staying here today?"

Wariness gone, "I don't have any plans."

"Want me to call you or should I just decide what to pick up for dinner on the way home?"

"Whatever works for you." Then added, "I can make dinner."

"No. This will be easy. You just take the day off. Spend it working on feeling better."

Hannibal leaned in and kissed Face on his temple, then rested his forehead there. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was having a hard time fathoming what they had shared the night before. He never thought his longing for Temp would ever be satisfied. He was so incredibly happy. Straight up happy.

Face whispered to him, "I'm sorry."

Jerking his head up in surprise, "What could you possibly be sorry for?"

"I'm sorry I backed out last night." He rearranged himself on the pillow, "Maybe we could try again?"

Hannibal tilted his head to match Face's angle and said with a smile, "I'd like that."

"Honestly John .... It was a little scary last night."

"Too much at once?"

Face nodded.

"I understand."

The corners of Face's mouth turned up. "But it ended great."

As he ran his knuckles down the young man's cheek he said, "I don't want it to be scary for you at all. Anytime we need to stop, we will," stroking his knuckles down again. And they would. Hannibal felt he had been given a great gift, Temp's trust. He would do whatever it took to keep it.

Face smiled and closed his eyes to the touch.

"You like that?"

He received a nod in return. "It's nice."

"How about this?" kissing his lips.

Face nodded again rolling partially to his back. Looking in the grey blue eyes he reached upward. As the boss leaned in he was captured in Face's arms.

 

While Face set out plates Hannibal unpacked their hot sandwiches from the bag.

"What do you want to drink, Boss?"

"I picked up cans of soda."

"Do you want a glass and ice."

"No, this is fine for me." He had the sandwiches set on the plates and was just transferring the cans to the table.

Over their sandwiches they discussed Hannibal's phone call with Major Tomlinson, the director of all firearms training on the base. He had, of course, heard of the legendary marksman, Lt. Peck. And he would be thrilled to have him assist with training. He suggested the LT could take on those who show exceptional aptitude or promise. He asked the Colonel if he thought it was something Peck would be interested in. He told him it sounded good, but it would be best to speak to his XO directly.

"So do I call him for an appointment?" Face asked.

"I made one for you. Tuesday at 1050. Told him about your regular doctor visits and if that interferes with an appointment I would have you, my XO, call to reschedule." Hannibal huffed a light laugh, "I kept calling you _my_ XO. Wanted to make sure he knew this was temporary."

Face grinned at that. "You know if I have to stay here, I think this is the best thing for me to do. Thank you Hannibal."

"You're welcome kid."

They ate in comfortable silence then Hannibal asked, "Think you'll be up to coming into the office with me one day next week? I could use my XO giving me a hand."

"Sure, I can do that."

"It wouldn't be for a whole day. I don't want to wear you out."

"The only problem is, if I help you that's all the sooner you'll be caught up and you'll be leaving me."

Hannibal took his hand across the table. He stared at their hands held together while he stroked his thumb back and forth over Temp's knuckles. He sighed as he thought of the day coming in the next couple of weeks when he and the other boys would ship out, leaving their LT behind.

 

Face was lying on his back as the remains of his orgasm pulsed through him. His knees were still up, feet flat on the mattress, legs spread. "You feel amazing."

Lying along side, Hannibal was propped up on an elbow. The palm of his hand circled Face's abs.

"Being inside of you was amazing. But John, you inside of me? ...." His face spread into a beaming smile as his eyes drifted over the man's face. Hannibal silently leaned down to kiss him

John's hand pulled the pillows out from under him then slipped around his waist, rolling him over and drawing him in. As he began to fade into sleep Face was struck by the powerful man's gentleness towards him and was grateful for it. He couldn't think of a time he had felt so grounded, when he felt so safe.


	8. Chapter 8

It was Saturday morning and Murdock had let himself in and headed for the kitchen expecting to find Face waiting for him. Coffee had been made but all was quiet. He made his way to Face's room across from the Colonel's, being quiet so as not to wake Hannibal. He knew Face had moved back to his own room a week or so prior. Looking in, Murdock saw the bed was empty and made. The hall bathroom had been empty as he looked down to the end of the hall and he didn't hear anything coming from the boss' bath. As he turned away from Face's room, he saw the Colonel's door partly open. Glancing in he did a double take when instead of Hannibal's silver he saw Face's darkened chestnut hair peaking out of the covers. Hannibal was nowhere to be seen.

Face woke to the bed dipping along the edge and a hand rubbing the ball of his shoulder. Opening his eyes he was surprised to see Murdock.

"Hey, you forget about our run date?"

"Ah man, yeah I did. I'm sorry. I'll only be a minute."

As he tried to rise to hurry out of bed Murdock pressed him back down, "It'll take you that long just to gather your clothes and get to your own room." Face watched as he lifted a pair of briefs from the floor with the toe of his running shoe.

Face's lips parted as he briefly looked around now fully awake and it occurred to him where he was. "Look, I...", Face stumbled.

"You and Hannibal bumpin' uglies last night?"

Face covered his eyes and wiped his hand down to his mouth. "Murdock....I....we...."

Murdock reached forward, wrapping a curl behind Face's ear. Returning his hand to his own lap he said to him quietly, "It's alright, Buddy. If you're happy? I'm happy for you."

Murdock smiled down until his friend's tension gave way. Face's eyes softened and he slid into a slightly embarrassed smile. Murdock squeezed his forearm, "I'll meet you downstairs."

Face found Murdock sitting on the kitchen counter sipping coffee between what he called his morning eye and nostril calisthenics.

"Ya know, I'm just as surprised by this as you are."

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, Facey."

Face looked a bit frazzled.

Murdock took another sip of coffee then said, "Answer one thing for me."

"Sure."

"Is this a one shot?"

"I hope not."

Murdock slid off the counter and put his mug in the sink. "Look. I'm not going to say I was expecting this this morning, but I've seen a lot stranger things happen. And if I'm honest, I've kinda been expecting it at some point. Give me a little time for it to sink in, okay?"

"You have? I mean Okay. Yeah, sure."

Murdock clapped him on the arm and smiled, "Come on. Mornin's wastin'." Heading for the door Murdock asked, "Where's the bossman anyhow?"

"Don't know. I didn't even hear him get up."

As Face reached for the door knob it turned in his hand as Hannibal opened it from the outside. "Oh....Morning, gentlemen."

Face was taken off guard and flushed. "I forgot we planned to go running this morning."

Hannibal looked from Face to Murdock, "Well it's a beautiful morning for it. I'll get us some breakfast started. Be ready in what? An hour?"

Murdock answered for them, "Sounds about right, Bossman."

 

Back from their run, the two friends took showers and sat down exactly one hour later to what turned out to be an awkward breakfast with Hannibal. The boss' head snapped up when Murdock asked if the pheromones were just drifting in the air or if they had been added directly to the scrambled eggs. He poked around on his plate to see if he could spy some of the offenders there. Face ducked his head, shielding his face with one hand while fumbling about, trying desperately not to drop his fork with the other in his embarrassment.

After he and Face cleaned up from breakfast, Murdock pulled out the lawnmower and was cutting the grass while Face cleaned and seasoned the grill. Inside he ran a vacuum around the downstairs. When Hannibal saw him reaching for the mop from the closet he put an end to Face's chores.

"Stop babying me, John."

"Both of the guys will be here tonight. You look tired now. Don't you want to take a nap so you aren't ready for bed at 1800 tonight?

"You're the one who kept me up last night."

"Be that as it may, you have circles under your eyes." It was good to hear a bit of bite from Face. He had been far too serious and passive since he fell ill. It was a sign he was healing. Getting back to himself.

"Okay, but not too long. You'll wake me up in a couple of hours?"

"Yep."

"Promise?"

Hannibal kissed him, "Promise."

"Hannibal?"

"Unless you need to go to the hospital, whatever you have to say to me can wait until later," he cupped him behind his neck and pointed him toward the stairs.

 

Hannibal was looking in the refrigerator, taking stock of what was needed for their BBQ in the evening. It would only be him and his boys. He listed BA's favorite, potato salad. Green salad for Face. A can of baked beans would be good. He already had bacon and molasses to mix in. He heard steps behind him. Looking over his shoulder he found Murdock there leaning against the counter closest to the doorway. He was propped up on an elbow one ankle crossed over the other. "I'm going to the store. Pick up steaks and other things for tonight. Have any special requests?"

"Naw. I'm happy with whatever."

Hannibal closed the fridge and pocketed the list. Walking by the pilot he said, "I won't be long."

"Hey Bossman?"

Hannibal's hand went for his pocket to retrieve the list. "What did you think of?"

Turning he saw Murdock was still leaning against the counter, body facing into the kitchen, his head turned, chin on his shoulder.

"If you're leading him on .... If you do anything, and I mean _anything_ , to hurt him .... I'm tellin' you now Hannibal, you ain't seen crazy."

As quietly as it was spoken, the mighty John "Hannibal" Smith was brought up short, jarred by the steady firmness in the voice.

He quickly regathered himself, thankful Murdock wasn't looking at him. Taking a few steps forward he draped an arm over the younger man's shoulder, "I would never do anything to hurt him."

Murdock looked him square in the eye, "See that ya don't."

 

Returning from the store, he and Murdock unpacked the groceries. Murdock was pulling a pan out of the cabinet for the beans when Hannibal went to Face's room.

He looked on, watching Temp sleep before crossing the threshold. He thought of the close call they had all had with this illness. As difficult as it was going to be to return to the desert without him, they could instead all be on bereavement leave having just arranged and attended a funeral. The doctors had no doubts he would make a full recovery and join them in a couple of months. They won't be faced with him being permanently disabled; although, it had been close. It could still happen in the field, but Hannibal saw this as a different kind of bullet dodged.

He slightly choked when he thought he might have missed an opportunity to move their relationship to this new level. Standing there he felt a physical jolt as it came to him Temp could have a change of heart during their separation. What would he do if upon arrival overseas Temp tells him he doesn't want to continue? What on Earth would he do if he lost this? He couldn't go there.

Entering the room he sat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Face's hair waking him. He was taken aback by the first thing out of Temp's mouth.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Uh, no." Hannibal looked confused. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because I talked to Murdock." He rolled his shoulders so his chest was up, twisting impossibly at the waist, "But it wasn't what you think."

"I wasn't thinking anything. Though I'll admit I was surprised he knew so soon."

Words tumbled out. "I forgot we planned on running this morning and when he got here I was still in your bed and he asked me and I couldn't lie to him 'cause ya know it was pretty obvious I mean my underwear was right there on the floor and he said he was happy for me and I wasn't planning on telling him and it just kinda happened. I'm sorry, John."

"You sound like you did when you were a teenager."

"I'm sorry."

Hannibal chuckled and ran his knuckles down Face's cheek, "Don't be."

Hannibal smiled down on him. "Temp, I don't want to be your fuck buddy. I don't want this to be a fly-by. I want this to work for us. And part of it working for us is for Murdock and B.A. to know and accept it. Murdock seems okay at this point. So he found out a little faster than I expected, but there's no harm in it."

"I just don't want to fuck it up."

"I know, but the only way you can fuck it up is if you aren't you. If you aren't my beautiful boy."

Was that it? Plain and simple. His beautiful boy?  
It really didn't take long. He could be thankful for that, that he found out so soon.

The young man's entire demeanor changed. A look of hurt fell across his face. Even laying on the bed as he was, Hannibal could see a physical change. A slump.

"So this has been about my looks."

"What!? .... No!"

_Hannibal thought, Well here's a whole 'nother set of insecurities to work on._

"You need to hear what I'm saying. Listen to me, Temp. I'd be lying if I said your looks aren't a bonus." He cupped Face's lovely cheek. "Temp, I think you're beautiful here. Can't deny it." His hand travelled down his neck to his shoulder. "And here." Continuing down his ribs to his hip. Lifting his eyebrows and adding a smirk, "Handsome." His hand slipped around to Face's ass. A big shit eating grin spread across his face, "Nothing short of gorgeous back here." Face turned his head away. Hannibal moved his hand back around to Face's stomach then up to his chest, over his heart. "But this, this here," turning the young man's head back with the other hand, "and this," pressing fingers to Face's temple. "These are the most beautiful things about you, Temp. All the rest is just gravy."

He leaned down and kissed him briefly on his mouth. "I only hope you'll have faith in me and know I'm not taking this lightly. Really understand it. I didn't enter into this on a whim."

He stroked his forehead, "I've always been fond of you. You've always been special to me. You know that, right?"

Face nodded.

"From when you first came to me, barely out of your teens, there has been something about you. And don't think I don't know you lied about your age. You're the youngest college graduate I know." He palmed Face's cheek resting it along his jaw. "But now? That man-child is gone. At least for the most part," ducking his head he added with a grin. "Now? Now I love the man you've become." Another stroke down his cheek.

"Temp, I love you."

_Truly?_

There it was. That conditioned response. He couldn't help himself.  _Just stop it, Peck! You're going to drive him away with all of this doubt._

"I've always loved you." He reached up and touched Hannibal with his fingertips coaxing a smile from the older man.

"You ready to get up? B.A. will be here soon."

He needed to stop all of this. He was so gun shy after Sosa, but he needed to stop this before he ruined what could be the best thing to ever happen to him. He knew he was fighting off depression and these thoughts were a part of it, but couldn't help himself. For a few seconds Face just stared at him trying to absorb the affection, desperate for it to be real, before shaking himself back, "Yeah, I'm coming."

As he sat up Hannibal embraced him in a solid hug, rubbed his nose against his ear. Letting him go he said, "With Murdock knowing, we really need to talk to B.A. this evening."

"Yeah. We do"

"Just one of us or together?"

"I'd rather it be together. But if there's an opportunity alone I guess we should take it."

"Okay," Hannibal said as he stood.

"Hey John?"

"Hmm?"

"Did we just make our first decision as a couple?"

Hannibal huffed and smiled. "We sure did."

 

"Oh man?! I don't want to know this." Looking at Murdock with enough scowl to melt a tank, "Did you know about this, fool?"

"I always kinda wondered. But I didn't know for certain 'til this morning when I found Faceman in Hannibal's bed with his pants down."

"Oh man?! I do _not_ want to know this."

Hannibal cringed in sympathy for Bosco on that one.

Looking at Murdock nonplused, Face interjected, "You said something like that this morning. That you suspected. No. You _expected_ it. What did you mean by that?"

"Well Faceman, anyone who's ever stood between the two of you can smell the musth just pourin' offa ya like a couple of bull elephants. I've had to look more than once to see if you weren't secreting out of your temples when you was standin' too close to each other."

Face was interested in this. Probably more interested than if he didn't have one too many beers coursing through him, but interested none the less. "Really? Cause I wasn't feeling it at all. I should say I didn't know it was mutual." He was leaning over the table with his hands folded together.

"No, you just weren't registering it for what it was. It was there."

They were now talking as they did alone, as best friends, unabashed and open.

"Seriously." It was a question, delivered as a statement.

"Sure. Now that I think about it, anytime the bossman's within five feet of you, you light up like he's all aglow and bein' followed around by a choir of angels hittin' that perfectly pitched harmonized chord." Then remembering it wasn't just the two of them he slapped BA's arm with the back of his hand. Didn't want the big guy feeling left out of the conversation. "Didn't you notice that? How sometimes this one would get all woobly-eyed around Hannibal?"

"Look, Murdock. If I don't want to know this, why would I want to go and talk about it?"

Now Hannibal spoke, "Is this going to be a problem for you BA?"

"Hannibal, I don't care what you all do in private. None of my business. But I don't need to be made a party to it. I don't need to be thinking about the details."

"Understood." Then taking Face's hand, "But we're telling you out of respect. So we won't be sneaking around behind your back. Also, we need to know how this will effect the team. Will we still be able to work together effectively? Will it make a difference?"

"It hasn't so far," replied the Sergeant.

This made Face's head pop up, "What?"

"Just cuz I don't wanna know don't mean I'm blind."

Face looked around the table, incredulous. "Am I really the only one who didn't know this?"

"I don't think you didn't know," offered Murdock helpfully, "so much as you weren't seeing all the colors of the rainbow."

Hannibal looked away and chuckled while BA covered his face with both hands and shook his head.

"I need something stronger than this milk."

"The beer's in the fridge, BA," said Hannibal.

Before he had the door to the patio closed behind him he heard Murdock, "Since you're not going to be needing it anymore, could I have your room, Faceman?"

When BA was again seated Murdock took Face's other hand, giving it a squeeze, but before letting go said, "I'm so happy for you Facey," then added, "If anyone deserves a great man like Hannibal, it's you buddy."

BA was surprised to find himself nodding in agreement. From the first time he saw the two of them together he knew how close they were. He saw from the get go how much the boss cared for Face by what he went through to reach him. He also saw how Hannibal made quick work of breaking through Face's less than carefully crafted defenses that day. And without Face saying a word of it, BA knew how important Hannibal was to him.

Face deserved a serious berating for the situation he had put everyone in. But he could hear more relief in Hannibal's voice than anger as the younger man pulled a T-shirt on while pushing between the front seats of the van. And when he retreated again to the back BA heard in his voice how contrite he was. In the following years Face had earned BA's respect a hundred times over. Not only as a soldier, but also as a loyal and trusted friend.

He appraised the man across the table from him noting he looked thoroughly worn out. He had had a burst of animation, but Bosco could see that was waning. Face and Hannibal's chairs were close, touching, and Face was starting to slump a little into the boss' arm. Like a child, his switch had been turned off. Then it hit BA, like the sudden stop when running headlong into a brick wall, they could have lost Face. Though nowhere near as bad sitting across from him, he was reminded of the shock of seeing him at the airport after his too long sojourn returning to the states.

His gaze turned to Hannibal. Face's head was now leaning on his shoulder and the boss had his chin resting in the man's hair. Looking into middle space, he still held Face's hand. BA couldn't deny how peaceful Hannibal looked. He too had been a sight in Atlanta. He was tired and sick with worry. Hannibal was always in control, but bringing Face home had been terribly hard on the Colonel. There had been visible fissures in his cool facade.

BA really didn't care what they got up to together as long as he never needed to hear a blow by blow account, no change that, play by play. Damn, that ain't real good either. It doesn't matter. Without realizing he was speaking out loud he confirmed, "It's all good."

Hannibal and Murdock both looked at him. Before there was further discussion on the matter he spoke again, "You better be getting him to bed, Hannibal. He looks like he used up his stores."

Hannibal smiled at BA then turned his attention to the man starting to doze on his shoulder, "Come on, Temp." He stood and held out his hand. A bleary-eyed Face took it to stand.

"I'm really tired, John."

"I bet you are, Kid."

"Goodnight, guys."

The two left at the table said their goodnights as Hannibal moved his arm around to the younger man's back and lead him to the door. As he closed it he told his other boys he would be back shortly; although, neither of them really expected to see him again until morning. Though only around 2100 hours he looked pretty well done too.


	9. Chapter 9

Meeting with Major William Tomlinson was a bit of a surprise for Face. It wasn't what he had expected. The Major had a new program in mind open to those who show exceptional aptitude. Tomlinson envisioned more of a gunslinger approach beyond Sniper School; although, he was quick to point out the term "gunslinger" was never to be uttered. He envisioned training for more precision and therefore with higher kill counts for soldiers on the move rather than stationed or stalking. The recruits would be among the cream of the crop from the sniper training program and those with the highest scores above a set minimum from the International Sniper Competition. Face was expecting to assist with the current program and was, upon being informed of his actual role, appropriately verecund.

The Major asked Face to brainstorm ideas and be prepared to develop an outline at their next meeting in three days. He also asked Face if he was up to the selection of the first recruits for the project. He wanted a roster in those same three days. Face thanked him for the faith the Major wanted to put in him, but told him due to his illness he wouldn't have the energy to observe and interview qualified prospects. Tomlinson pressed the issue, giving Face a good idea of the forceful man he would be dealing with.

Face quickly found his own voice and remained firm. He kept his eye on the prize. Start getting back to work on an extremely limited basis and build up as he progressed in his convalescence. And as soon as he was released by the doctors for active duty, extricate himself from this program to enable himself to rejoin his team.

Talking with Hannibal that night he formulated his personal goals: outlining the program, staffing and starting the first recruits. Hannibal was so proud of the maturity and ambition Face was demonstrating towards the project. This was going to be good for Face. Hannibal and the boys would miss him, but this was an opportunity for Face to come into his own, to step out of Hannibal's shadow and demonstrate his officer and leadership talents.

 

Face was prepared with his ideas and a preliminary outline to meet again with the Major. "Let's see what you have," said the Major sitting beside the LT at the table in his office.

They went over Face's notes and outline, brainstorming again together, adding new notes, crossing some off, then consolidating the entire thing. The Major called in his assistant and they completed the outline to be typed. A copy would be messengered to Face. It was decided the instructors from the Sniper School would extend invitations to their top students and Face would extend the invitations to the local high scorers from the competition.

When they were again alone the LT gave the Major a rundown of his physical condition. He was at his best in the morning and fatigued as the day went on. His vision had completely cleared as had the tinnitus. His balance and coordination issues were pretty much resolved, but as he tired they sometimes reappeared. But, he wanted to be clear he would put in as much effort as he could. The Major smiled and nodded. He already knew all of this from his phone call with Hannibal that morning.

What Face kept to himself was that he had been quite subdued compared to his usual buoyant self. And, as he hoped he was hiding from Hannibal and the guys, he was trying to keep depression at bay. He was counting on having this activity keep him busy enough to drive the abjection away.

Hannibal was also hoping for the same result. He confided in Tomlinson his concerns. Telling him of the seriousness of Face's illness and the after effects he was dealing with. One of them was depression which the Colonel was sure was being exacerbated by Face's clever mind atrophying. He asked Tomlinson to keep an eye on Face for him and contact him and his doctor if he observed any deterioration in him.

"Don't worry, Colonel. I'll take good care of your boy," the Major soothed.

"Thanks Will. I appreciate it. And Will? We didn't have this conversation."

"What conversation, Hannibal?"

 

"Is this the right thing, John?"

They were sitting on the deck after dinner. Hannibal had just poured them wine, "Is what right?"

"You and me."

Hannibal was taken aback. He thought Face's trepidation had subsided. It took him a long while to respond, "I think it is. I believe in it. I believe in us." He looked out over the yard. "You don't believe in us?"

Face was looking down in his glass, "I want to."

Hannibal waited, but nothing further was coming from the younger man.

"Talk to me Temp."

Face stood. Running his hand through his hair he wandered around the deck.

Hannibal watched. _Good god he's a sight. Those broad, straight shoulders. His long legs striding. Narrow hips .... and that face. So beautiful. Oh man Hannibal, you got it bad. Pull yourself together._

"Is it because we're both men?"

"No." Face had stopped with his back to Hannibal.

"Don't do this, Temp. Don't shut down." He went to him, placing his hands on Face's shoulders. Hannibal pulled his back into his own chest and wrapped his arms around. He spoke into the younger man's ear. "Is it our ages?"

"No."

"Is it our ranks?"

"No. John, please..."

"Turns out you don't love me and changed your mind?"

That one did the trick, "No!" Face squirmed in his arms and turned around. "I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me? What are you talking about, Kid?"

"Everything always comes to an end. Except you. You've stayed."

"Of course I've stayed. It's ... It's..." _It's because I'm your CO and we're stuck with each other. And you've turned down any attempts to promote you. At least that's the way it's been until now_. But he sure as hell couldn't say that. Luckily Temp began again.

"All of my really important relationships, the ones I really cared about, have ended except for you. Well and the guys, but that's different." He was looking at the armhole seam of Hannibal's shirt chewing his lower lip. "Father Maghill just died. Keeled over with a heart attack. Dead. Gone. Besides, I was just one of hundreds of his kids. My serious romantic relationships both turned into dust. Like I wasn't even part of them to begin with. Leslie ran off to become a nun. A nun! for cryin' out loud."

"Temp, that's something no man can compete with. When someone gives up their life for a calling, it has nothing to do with anyone but themselves. You know that."

"Yeah? Well what about Charrisa? She left too. She just up and walked out. Said she couldn't stand the sight of me anymore. I did something to drive her away and I don't even know what it was."

"Here's the cold hard truth on that one." Hannibal was tense, lips tight, "That bitch played you better than any con you've ever pulled off." He had Temp by the upper arms and had to control himself to keep from shaking the idiot. "You know and associate with some very important people. She used you to get access to them. That little bitch used you in her quest to charge up the ranks." He did give him a firm jostle. "She used you!"

Face was stunned by the harshness. He was looking at Hannibal with his eyes wide and his mouth open.

"She never deserved you! When are you going to get it?" It finally came to him he was shouting, angry all over again at what that woman had done to his boy. He leaned his forehead into Temp's, voice back in check, "When are you going to figure out you're worth so much more? You deserve to be treated so much better? That you deserve to be treasured?"

This man who could strategize rings around superior officers; who did not hesitate in his role as a sniper; who by his side was as brave as any soldier he had ever known could still sometimes become a lost pup. Instead of stepping back and observing, Hannibal had let himself be drawn in. He knew better. He also knew a lot of the cause of this downturn in the kid's demeanor.

"Well it still fell apart and I can't have that happen with you. I can't lose you."

Hannibal almost told him he was afraid of losing Face too, but decided it would only muddy the waters. "Temp." Hannibal ducked his head to look him in the eye. "You're not completely over your illness. You're almost always tired. You're not yourself." He paused. "How many years have we known each other?"

Face shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. It was too much of an effort to calculate.

"Long enough for me to know whatever demons are still after you come to the surface when you don't feel well." He rubbed a hand up and down his arm. "I'm sorry I yelled."

Face looked off to the side over Hannibal's shoulder. "I can't stop thinking of what can go wrong."

"I know. I also know you've been fighting off depression. Do you think it's time for you to get medication?"

"No! ... No, I don't want that."

"If it will help..."

"No. If I'm on something I can't be on the firing range. If I can't do that what the hell am I going to do? No. I don't want that."

"I don't know if that's true. I'll look into it."

"No! Leave it alone." He was looking a little panicky. "Don't do anything. If you start asking around someone will put it together it's me. I'll be fine."

"Okay, okay .... I won't. But if you change your mind .... You know, they give Murdock a gun."

Face started chewing his thumb nail, not looking Hannibal in the eye.

"I'm going to start calling you Thomas."

"Very funny."

"You look so tired."

"It's too early to go to bed."

"I won't tell anyone." Hannibal was grinning.

Face finally cracked a smile, "I _am_ really tired."

 

Hannibal climbed into bed pulling the covers up around them. Gathering Face to his chest he kissed his forehead. Face settled his head into the divot where Hannibal's shoulder meets his chest. His breathing was already becoming deeper.

"Temp?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever considered your other relationships didn't succeed so ours could?"

Temp's eyes opened. It took him half a minute before he looked up. The moon was bright enough through the window for him to see Hannibal's gaze shift to him and for Hannibal to see those blinking eyes intent on him.


	10. Chapter 10

John and the guys had been gone almost two weeks. He had surprised himself with how well he took the actual departure day. Expecting his emotions to run rampant as they had been since he fell ill, he found himself being quite brave. Hannibal, it turned out, was the one who was a total mess.

The previous night they had gone for dinner, out of uniform and out of town. It had sounded like such a good idea, being far away from the fort where they could behave with each other more naturally. Unfortunately, the long ride was taxing on Face who couldn't stay awake for the drive back home.

Joining his now sound asleep partner in bed Hannibal looked down on him in the light of the not quite full moon beaming in through the window. Looking over his features and listening to the deep rhythmic breaths, Hannibal studied every inch of his lovely face. He quietly petted the sleeping man's hair trying to retain the sensation in order that he could revive the memory when needed on the other side of the world.

Easing down to his pillow, his chest had become hollow and his throat was tightening with a feeling of loss. Jeezus, how was he going to manage this? He had been putting up a stoic front for Face from the moment he told him of the impending separation. The younger man hadn't taken it well and he hadn't wanted to add fuel to the embers.

Hannibal had been denying how deeply he was effected by the situation. And here he was the night before leaving feeling like he may fall apart. Over the years he had trained himself to relax for a good night's sleep before deployment; unfortunately, there wasn't getting much sleep for him that night. It was his lack of sleep he blamed for his difficulty dealing the next morning.

Face was up and had made him his favorite Waffle House breakfast splurge - scrambled eggs with American cheese mixed in, crispy hash browns, bacon and cinnamon raison toast. Temp had woken him and shooed him into the bathroom only to come out to the younger man holding a baking sheet with the meal arranged on top.

His hair was a mess and his beard had passed from sexy stubble to this side of ragged. He wore a pair of cotton sleep pants, a rumpled T-shirt and a smile. He was utterly charming.

"Breakfast in bed?"

Hannibal just smiled and nodded before sitting again amongst the sheets and blankets, afraid of how he may sound with his throat so tight if he spoke. Leaning against the headboard he sat motionless as Face set the tray on his lap. He moved the items here and there, setting them back where they belonged after sliding about on their way from the kitchen. Satisfied with the presentation and still smiling when he stood, his blue eyes were beaming in the soft light of the bedside lamp.

Hannibal found his voice, "What about you?"

"Mine's still downstairs." He was on the move now, "Be right back with your coffee and juice. Get started so it doesn't get cold," he shot over his shoulder on the way out the door.

After two trips for coffee, juice and his own meal, he too was sitting on the bed, cross legged facing Hannibal.

"Do you have everything packed?"

Hannibal nodded while looking down to pick up his coffee, "Just need to throw in my shave kit." Looking up again he was met with Temp happily chewing away, a big grin on his face and his blue eyes shining.

Hannibal's coffee cup didn't make it to his mouth, his arm seemingly frozen midway to its destination.

Temp swallowed and took a sip of his own coffee, "What?"

"How I love you."

The younger man seemed to freeze in place for just a second. His mouth opened and closed without comment, then it passed. He took a bite of toast and was grinning and chewing again, "Thanks Hannibal." So worried if he acknowledged as he wanted, he would fall apart.

Picking up a piece of bacon Face was surveying his meal, "We should buy some trays. Cookie sheets don't really cut it."

Hannibal was still watching him. _Thanks Hannibal_ wasn't the response he was expecting. More like _I love you too_. But Face seemed to have moved on. He was struck by Temp's manner. From all of the hand wringing that had gone before he was somewhat baffled by the younger man's calm. He didn't seem in the least bit on edge.

Finishing, Face took their "trays" and set them on the dresser. Standing along side the bed he gazed out the window, dawn was breaking. "Too late to go back to sleep. Too early to get up and get dressed. What should we do now?"

Even though he knew it was coming, the man's speed took him by surprise. He ooffed when Hannibal grabbed him around the waist and threw him to the bed. His laugh was verging on a schoolgirl giggle as he squirmed within John's tight hold, being kissed on his neck and jaw. He settled when Hannibal wiped his hair back off his forehead, then cradled the back of his skull in the large hand. He was held tightly around the valley of his lower back.

Hannibal was looking down into those bright blue eyes. Again memorizing. This time memorizing the various colors and patterns that made them that particular color, that made them shine, that made him melt. He was smiling now. This man was beyond handsome. He was beautiful.

Face was assessing too.

Though not traditionally handsome John's features evoked the essence of the man; strong, elegant, imposing, impressive. His nose was a little askew and his mouth was nothing remarkable. Nothing remarkable that is until he smiled, smiled as he was now. It was then John's smile melded into his eyes. He found himself smiling along with.

People often remarked on Face's bright blue eyes. But for Face? Give him the more smokey blue eyes of Hannibal Smith. One of the things that attracted him to Sosa was the color of her eyes. But it wasn't long before he was thinking again of smoke blue, and Charrisa's had become a poor substitute. He had secretly hoped one day she would look up at him with the grey blue eyes he couldn't allow himself to steadily peer into. The eyes that at this moment were for him and him alone. It caused a fluttering in his stomach.

Face lay on his back, held by the larger man above him. He held his elbow in tight with a loose fist on his own chest, a handful of Hannibal's T-shirt in the other. He was searching wide eyed the face that was only a foot or so above his. His eyes slid closed and his mouth fell open when John began kissing his throat, stopping to nuzzle his Adam's apple and ending with a press to his lips.

"What would you like?"

John was again studying that face. He finally answered, "You inside of me."

Face smiled, "I think that can be arranged." Hannibal allowed himself to be rolled to his back.

 

Face had called the day before for a car to pick up the Colonel and it was now waiting in the driveway. Face had given the driver Hannibal's kit and told him he would be down in a minute closing the door behind him, well maybe not that gently. Going back around the corner from the entry to where Hannibal was leaning against the wall, head back, chin up, successfully making the tears flow back in his eyes instead of out of them.

"I'm sorry, Kid."

"Don't be."

He let out a heavy sigh, "I can't believe this. It just hit me."

"I know, I was here."

They had seen the car pull into the driveway. Temp had taken John's coffee mug and set it on a table. When he turned back and was taken into Hannibal's arms he bit down on his lower lip. He needed to keep control of himself. It wouldn't do his Colonel any good breaking down as he walked out the door. "Love you, John."

The doorbell rang and Face let go, but Hannibal did not. Instead he held his young lover closer, his face buried. Face ran his hands up and down the Colonel's sides thinking they really should answer the door. Placing his hands on Hannibal's hips, he pressed him back looking up only to see him with red watery eyes.

"Oh....Oh shit .... Don't John. You're gonna get me started."

Hannibal was pressing on either side of the bridge of his nose with one hand and steadying himself against the wall with the other when the doorbell rang again. Face hurried to the door and in a continuous action picked up the kit, opened the door, tossed the kit at the driver, told him the Colonel was looking for his eye drops and would be out in a minute all before swinging the door shut on the startled Private.

After saying a few words while running his hand up and down Hannibal's upper arm he hurried up the stairs and ran to the hallway bath. Going to the medicine cabinet he quickly found the bottle of drops he kept for those mornings after a hard night of drinking. He grabbed the bottle and a wad of tissues. Back at the bottom of the stairs he gave the Colonel a tissue.

"Blow."

While Hannibal blew his nose, Face stuffed the drops and tissue into his pocket.

"Tell him you got soap in your eyes in the shower."

Hannibal had it back together again. He took in a deep breath and blew it out hard. He smiled at Face and whispered, "Thanks," and thought _No one has a better XO_. He leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, palming his cheek. Not risking anymore words he turned and made his way for the door, picking up his briefcase on the way out.

His driver looked in the rearview to the backseat as the Colonel waved about trying to aim the drops in his eyes in the moving car.

"Would you like me to pull over, sir?"

"No, I'm running late. I think I've got it."

"Soap in your eyes, sir?"

"Yeah. Soap in my eyes."

 

Face purposely closed the door without watching as Hannibal made his way down the walk to the waiting car. He did catch a glance of the young driver standing by the car with his hand on the back door handle. He could hear the car door opening then closing with a thunk. Leaning his forehead on the door, he stayed put until he could no longer hear the car make its way down the street.

Holding himself tight around the waist he surveyed the dead silence of the house. This was when his eyes began to sting. He started to move toward the discarded coffee cup when he heard his cell phone ringing on the end table. Checking the caller ID he let out a sigh of relief to see it was Murdock.

"Facey? You okay?"

"It's a little rough."

"Bossman on his way?"

"Yeah, he just pulled out of here a couple of minutes ago."

"You know I'm going to miss you."

"Yeah, I know, Buddy. I'm going to be missing you too." His voice caught.

"Aww Facey. Don't you worry. We're going to take good care of him for you. Okay?"

He sniffed, "Okay. Thanks, Bud. Would you say goodbye to Bosco again for me?"

"Will do."

"Murdock, if you need help with your meds, go to John, okay? He said he'll help you."

"I will, Facey. Don't worry about me."

"You can say that Aichem, but I can't help it."

"I know. Thank you. ..... Hey Facey, I gotta go."

"Okay. Take care of yourself."

"You too." And he was gone.

They were all gone, "Shit."

 

It had been two weeks since they left. Every morning Temp reaffirmed his directives to himself. Follow the doctor's orders and concentrate on development of the new program. He hasn't wavered from Dr. Tureaud's instructions. The sooner he recuperated the sooner he can get out of here. He was ever mindful to be on the lookout for opportunities to delegate then relinquish responsibilities within the sniper program. When he completes his convalescence, he wants to be ready to turn over the reins.

The early days of the program, now dubbed Active Target, were rather trying. The first wave of recruits for the program constisted of three low to mid ranked enlisted men and two women; one young second lieutenant; one Captain; and four baby Rangers, none yet fledged. There were also two instructors from the current sniper school at his disposal, Sergeants Mike Halvort and Jorge Sanchez.

While sorting themselves out it became apparent the baby Rangers, with the exception of one, were of the opinion their shit didn't stink. While Face appreciated their confidence, the attitudes could take a hike. The three officers seemed to be alright, stand up kind of guys as were the regular enlisted men. He wasn't surprised to find the two women essentially ignored by the others. He expected the two of them to pair off, but one of them was trying to ingratiate herself into the Ranger boys' clubhouse. Could be trouble there. That left the other on her own.

Besides the probability of being permanently separated from Hannibal, this was another reason he had stopped his CO from pushing his paperwork forward for a promotion to Captain. He just didn't like the people management duties that seem to increase as one moved up. Hannibal was a great people person. Him? Not so much.

The first days of introduction proved the selection of these twelve were on the mark for their technical abilities. He was impressed by the skill level across the board; although, it was pretty clear his top two students were the single woman and the somewhat removed Ranger.

He had been introduced with no fanfare, a simple rundown of his shootist accomplishments. Most of them seemed attentive. The Rangers appeared decidedly unimpressed, with the noted exception of Staff Sergeant Dane Colt, who seemed to be awestruck, though Face couldn't make out why. Staff Sergeant Michelle Law nodded in approval, sitting slightly separated from the rest as his qualifications were read off. Sgt. Colleen Farrell seemed more interested in the cuticle on her thumb than learning about their instructor. That is until she looked up without fully raising her head and slowly blinked at him from under long lashes. Face thought, _Sorry honey, not looking, already taken_.

He was outranked by one of the officers, Capt. Shaniq Johnson, but didn't see any signs of superiority issues. Face was struck by Sgt. Law's calm and mild manner. He thought it's what made her an exceptional marksman. She seemed unflappable. On the other hand Corp. Phil Stockton seemed the nervous sort, eyes darting and hands always moving.

As the days went on the extremes became more extreme. Face had to have a serious talk with Corp. Stockton asking if this was really the right program for him. His mind raced and he often shot first, asked questions later. Face was surprised as he had exceptional scores from the previous year's competition.

It wasn't until days later Face recognized the telltale perpetual sniffing. He gave the young man a chance. Told him if he sought counseling on his own he would keep his suspicions about the cocaine use to himself. He would also go along with the Corporal requesting out of the program rather than being asked to leave.

Sgt. Law never took a misstep. Unfortunately, her abilities were building a wall between herself and the other students. Face wished Hannibal was there to talk this over with. He wanted to ease the tension, but knew if he used the wrong approach he could make matters worse. He could target her.

Sgt. Farrell was a flirt, plain and simple. She had no problem trying to enlist feminine wiles to make up for any shortcomings. First off, she had few shortcomings in her handling of firearms, she wouldn't be here if she did. But more of a concern to him was the nature of the beast. Female or male, the Army is not the place to strut your stuff for strangers.

Though the higher ups liked to keep a lid on how often it occurred, sexual assault was a real problem. There were enough Neanderthals around who would use the old, "He or she asked for it," or "They said 'no' but they meant yes." He decided to discuss it with the other instructors for their input. Maybe they ran into it before. Better yet, he would turn it over to them. No time like the present to start delegating.

Sgt. Colt was hanging on his every word. It seemed he was pushing himself to be a teacher's pet; although, it was only with him, not the other instructors. He started to wonder if the young sergeant may have a crush on him. Colt was an exceptional shot, yet had a tendency to look for approval where obviously none was needed. He would need to watch it more closely, but he thought he may have a gentler version of himself on his hands.

The baby Rangers. Tsk, tsk, tsk.... What was he going to do with them? He could feel them slipping away. It was becoming obvious these guys didn't have much respect for him or the other trainers, Mike and Jorge, or the other students for that matter. Going to retrieve his briefcase after a session he overheard them while they gathered their belongings from the lockers. They were the last ones there.

"Where did they dig up that Peck?"

"Just a pretty boy."

He watched as Colt walked out the far door by himself, throwing over his shoulder, "Ya know he's a Ranger."

"Aw bullshit. I don't believe it."

"Yeah they would have said something."

"He knows what he's talking about, but I bet he couldn't nail half of what we have."

"You know what they say. Those that can do. Those that can't teach."

"You just know he's been a yes-man from day one."

"Just like Colt."

"Doesn't seem like the type to be able to handle real combat, so they put him here."

"If he was any good he wouldn't be here."

"No doubt."

 

The weekend was coming and he knew how he would be spending it. Mike and Jorge had devised paintball excersises. He was meeting the two to map out a course involving real life obstacles. They were given permission to use an old course that had been slated to be torn down. Face got on the phone to Tomlinson saying they could use it. It would be perfect. It included a city street, farm and warehouse. They could mess the place up with abandon then repaint as needed.

Each person would take a turn running the course, but as they did, each of the others had a roll to play as an enemy combatant. Mike worked up the various scenarios and Jorge made himself available for a morning of target practice with the weapons they would be using.

Face had announced at the end of the Friday session the three of them would be at the course Saturday morning. Anyone interested was welcome to come choose their weapon and practice on it. Only Capt. Johnson, Sgt. Law and Lt. Colt showed up.

Come Tuesday morning as the class assembled and instructions were given Face changed into his old BDU. The paintballs were meant to be washable, but the marks didn't always come out without effort. He didn't want to spend the afternoon messing around with cleaning an ACU. After this he was going to need a nap.

The course involved five moving targets and three stationary. Two of the moving targets involved two combatants as did one of the stationary. Upon completion the person coming off of the course would replace combatant position A. The person in position A moved to position B and so on as each person took their turn.

Each person entering the course was given a new map so that no two people followed the same pattern. The course was designed so each of the moving targets needed to fire while in motion and the person running the course fired at all targets while on the move. There were kill zones within each station. If the runner were shot outside of the kill zone it would be considered a civilian casualty. The runner could fire from anywhere. Mike and Jorge had enlisted the help of eight additional soldiers to act as judges for each station. Each person had their own paint color.

Face was given his map of the course to study. Each runner was allowed up to three minutes to study their map and compare to the stations; although, they were not allowed on the course prior to the start. Face took less than a minute to look over the course before he called time.

Baby Rangers Easton and Wells looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Easton whispered, "A little harder than he thought." Wells chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Face had called in Jorge and Mike for a little on the fly conference. Jorge and Face went back to their positions. Mike went to the center of the course.

Mike requested Face turn his back. He then shouted for all combatants and judges to show themselves, "Come on! Come out, come out wherever you are!" After taking a head count he announced, "We've decided to enrich the course. Your score per station will be doubled should you hit your target with a single kill shot. Only one shot fired for that station before moving on. Kill shot being head or heart." He paused for a moment to let it sink in. "Are there any questions?" Another pause. "If you are hearing me and understand let's see a thumbs up." He had to laugh when he looked at Face who was standing with his back to the course, his helmeted head ducked down low and a thumb up in the air.

Face entered the course. Within five feet of his first kill zone he saw movement high to his right. Target needed to move from one doorway to another on a balcony. The target was barely out of the doorway when Face marked his forehead. He hadn't reached the kill zone before his target made himself known giving him more time to access and check his map as he made his way to his next kill zone. Movement behind the parked sedan. He does not display he's registered it. The target thinks he hasn't been seen and stands to take his shot. Face marks his forehead. Movement from an unseen side door into an alley. Face marks the side of the target's head.

And so it went. Face not only hit every target, he did so with a single shot and most shots were a kill shot to the head. One shot was of notable exception. It was an ingenious shot to a stationary target's trigger hand. It was Wells. Startled him enough he almost dropped his gun. Upon completing the course he had several marks on him, none in the head one far right of the heart. There were several in his legs, two in an arm and one dead center in an ass cheek. He moved to position A and picked off each of the recruits as he moved through the lettered combatant's positions.

At the end of the exercise marks on clothing were compared while scores were totaled. Face tried to twist around enough to see his ass shot brought to him by one Sgt. Law; although, she swore up and down it wasn't intentional. Face removed his BDU shirt to inspect it for paint marks. Under it he wore a black sleeveless T. That morning he had almost put on a wife beater, he was glad he decided against it. This was a bit more subtle. Holding the camo shirt up, turning around to ask the people behind him, including the Ranger brats, who had what color paint. Go figure, doing this showed off his Ranger tat for the class to see.

He slipped the shirt back on saying it was a good start and he would see everyone again in the morning. When asked if he didn't want to wait for his score he said no, he was only there to fill the last spot and get the ball rolling.

Out of a possible two hundred two Sgt. Colt had the high score with a one hundred thirty-two followed by Sgt. Law with a one hundred twenty-one. Capt. Johnson wasn't that much farther behind with a one hundred seventeen. The rest, not so good. They would be running this exercise a few more times in the days to come. It was suggested the next time they were offered the chance to come on a day off to choose their weapons and make personal adjustments to it, they may want to reconsider blowing off the opportunity.

Easton had to ask, "What was Lt. Peck's score, sir?" nudging Campbell.

Mike flipped through and found it, "One hundred seventy-nine with a one hundred percent contact rate." Looking over the individual shots he also noted for the class, "He never used more than one shot in a station or zone."

For a change, the brats didn't have much to say.

Back home again Face thought Hannibal would have been proud of him. He handled the question of why he was developing the program without saying a word. He lay diagonally across the bed. He was worn out from the day but it felt good. Hoping he'd have the energy to make it through the next day, he set the alarm for one hour and grabbed one of Hannibal's pillows. Hugging it to himself he inhaled the scent as he drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if you're enjoying the story click "kudos" and leave me a comment.


	11. Chapter 11

Together with Gen. Morrison, Col. Clarke, Col. Mason, Col. Jackson and Col. Oshiro, Hannibal was in a strategic planning meeting to develop more efficient means of isolating combatant insurgents prior to their establishing a foothold in any of the smaller villages. Colonels Mason and Oshiro were accompanied by their very talented XOs, Lt. Schultz and Lt. Benedict. This was exactly the type of strategic partnering event at which Face excelled.

The gears would be all but smoking in his brain at this point. Easily showing up more than one of these superiors, often Hannibal himself. The kid has so much enthusiasm for this kind of brainstorming no one ever takes offense when he points out anything from cracks to valleys in other's suggestions or recommendations.

The XOs present are nowhere near the caliber of his First Lt. Peck. They placed themselves in positions of observers, not participants. Although their COs had brought them along for exposure and experience neither man engaged them or encouraged them to speak up.

Hannibal saw a problem with an approach recommended by Col. Clarke. Face would have jumped all over it. He saw Lt. Schultz flinch as he heard the Colonel speak and compared it to the map layout. Mason didn't see it. Hannibal would have liked to ask the young LT his opinion, but knew Mason wouldn't have taken kindly to it. He wished it was Oshiro's boy instead. Alan would welcome Hannibal's interaction with his LT. He's a firm believer in "it takes a village".

Hannibal pointed out the loophole himself then looked at Lt. Schultz. He could read all over the kid's face he wanted nothing more than to say, "That's what I thought!" but he remained closed mouth. When he looked around at the officers and landed on him, Hannibal shot him a wink, an acknowledgment. The kid tried not to smile too broadly.

Hannibal straightened up from his hunched over position, stretched and patted his pockets for a cigar. Dammit. He hadn't checked that he had one before leaving his tent. It was something vital to him to have, but he never concerned himself with making sure he had one on hand.

Often times before he started the actual self pat down, Face would be extending his arm with one of the treasured items. Sometimes he would look at his CO with that little smile seeking approval. Other times he wouldn't even be looking at him. It's been more than once he's been smacked in the chest with the back of his LT's hand. It was an obvious nonverbal, "Here. Take this." He smiled a little smile of his own thinking of his brash young man.

He hadn't noticed he stepped back from the table until he was smacked in the chest with the back of a hand and someone said softly, "Here." It was Russ and he had a cigar and a light.

He grinned and huffed as he accepted the proffered roll of tobacco, "Thank you, Russ."

"How's that boy of yours? Miss having him here," Russ said quietly. Hannibal could see his attention span for the meeting had ground to a halt while the others continued on.

Hannibal whispered, "He gets a little stronger everyday. Why don't you come by my tent tonight? I'll tell you about the project he's working on."

"Sounds good. We drinking my scotch?"

"What else? You have to remember my supply officer is Stateside."

"You have a fill in."

"He's a good kid, but he's no Face."

Russ wandered back to the table, "So gentlemen shall we continue this tomorrow?"

A murmur of agreement passed among the men. Russ addressed Mason and Oshiro by their nicknames, "Bulldog, Bushi, bring these boys with you again. And tomorrow I expect to hear what they have to say."

 

Russ clapped Hannibal on the back, "Thanks for the relaxing evening, Hannibal. Needed it."

"Always happy to provide a little R&R for you and your bottle. Any time, Russ. Just say the word and the two of you are welcome to visit."

Laughing, Russ said, "We should try it with your scotch sometime."

Now they were both laughing, "My scotch isn't any fun at all. At least yours likes to go out."

"Yours just likes it when you stay in at night and cry over it, huh?"

"No kidding. The heartless bitch." Both inebriated men got a laugh out of that one.

Still chuckling Russ made his way into the dark, " 'Night Hannibal."

" 'Night Russ."

They had been friends and drinking buddies for years. Knew what Hannibal sometimes thought was too much about each other. Had been through skirmishes and all out battles together. Been there for each other's weddings. Been there for the birth of Russ' son and the death of Hannibal's daughter. Been there for each other's divorces.

He didn't know if Russ knew he was bi. If he did he didn't care, or maybe just never brought it up. Russ was a live and let live kind of guy. They had the same views on just about every subject and may have had two or three, if that, serious disagreements in all the years they knew one another.

They had moved up the ranks steadily together. Russ always one step ahead. Had Russ not been several years older than Hannibal they would probably be of equal rank; although, the space between their current ranks was becoming farther apart. When Russ had sustained a serious injury he was ready to leave the field. The time was right for him to become a general. Hannibal still got a thrill from the direct encounters and would, like Face, remain at his rank longer than would be normal.

On the subject of Face, it had been Russ who assigned the troubled kid to Hannibal. It didn't take long for him to see the Colonel was Face's last and best hope at surviving the Army. He watched as the he thrived under Hannibal's tutelage. And he watched the kid bring something out in Hannibal that had been missing since the loss of his daughter to leukemia, not to mention the disintegration of his marriage after the loss.

Yep, they were friends, good friends.

After seeing Russ off, Hannibal tidied up and decided to call it a night. It was just him as he had thoughtlessly (wink wink) requested his own quarters on the base and arranged for Murdock and BA to share a two man. This worked for them while it was the three of them. The LT who had stepped into Face's shoes, shoes which quite frankly were too large for him, was on loan from another unit. Luckily, he was still able to bunk with his regular unit. However, when Face arrived it would involve moving them to new accommodations unless Hannibal wouldn't mind sharing his. Until that time Hannibal had his own quarters.

Stretching out in a T and boxers Hannibal's mind drifted where it did most nights. He was soon where he most liked to be, with Face.

On his back, eyes closed, hands behind his head, Temp's smiling face in his mind's eye. There was a little something niggling at him. It seemed to bother him the most after a belt or two. Face was so calm the day he and the others left. Hannibal had told him he loved him. Face had said "Thanks." Thanks? And then let the moment slip. It was so odd to him. Face had acted so heartbroken over their separation for weeks then when the moment came, he seemed unperturbed. Though later, just before his own breakdown, Face had said, _"Love you, John."_

Had he already begun gearing up for his time alone? Was the kid already phasing him out? It had only been a few weeks since their romance began and Face had been so uncertain about them. Did he talk the kid into doing something he really didn't want? God knows Face has no trouble attracting women. It's going to be months before he and the team see him again. Is he really expecting the kid to wait for him?

Then afterwards, would he come back to his senses and realize what would be missing if he continued with Hannibal? He wouldn't be free to express himself openly. They wouldn't be free to in the Army, being the age of DADT, not to mention the whole fraternization issue. Marriage and children would be off the table. Hadn't Face always wanted that? He would be stuck with a man. A man so many years older. Face was still a relatively young man. Him? He was decidedly middle aged.

What would he do if Face changed his mind about them? Now that he had tasted those lips? Now that he had held him in his arms, cradled his head? Had felt the young man respond to his touches, to his words? Had Face's strong hands and arms hold him? Had his fingers twine and comb through his hair?

He released one hand from behind his head and slid it under the waistband of his boxers. Taking himself in hand it was only seconds before he felt himself filling. He thought of the sight of Temp between his legs, working him with his mouth.

It had all been new to him. He had been so unsure, saying he didn't know what to do.

"What do you like done to you? Do that," Hannibal had smiled to him. "The beauty of being with another man is it takes a lot of the guesswork out. It's not like the roadmap you need for a woman's body."

Face had laughed at that and took John's glans in his mouth, circling it with his tongue, holding the shaft in his hand.

From how he handled him, John knew what a great lover Temp had been to the women he bedded. There was no longer any question in Hannibal's mind why women all over the base and off threw themselves at the young officer. It wasn't only his stunning good looks they were after. So generous, this lady killer, looking up often to be sure what he was doing was pleasing John.

He began taking in more and more of the length, just barely raking with his teeth at the end. John couldn't control a shiver. At one point he became a little too exuberant, taking too much of him in at once.

"Damn," he spat out, eyes watering between coughs following the gag. "Sorry."

Hannibal chuckled then guided him up to lay his head on Hannibal's smooth chest. Brushing his hands across the muscular shoulders and back as he lay atop him, John kissed his head and whispered, "I want you inside me." Temp looked up to him with a smile, but is eyes betrayed him. John could see apprehension.

"I tried it once with a woman and she didn't like it."

Hannibal stroked his forehead, "I can assure you I do."

Face started breathing again. John reached for the drawer of the nightstand. Upon finding his goal he held up the tube to show Face who quirked an eyebrow.

Hannibal chuckled, "Perhaps we've discovered why she didn't like it."

"I guess so," Face confirmed through his own laugh.

Hannibal thought of how he applied slick to Face's finger and walking him through one finger, then two, then three....

He was back in the present and needed to let go of himself. He was so close, but didn't want it to end. Instead he wiped his hand over his chest as Temp so often favored him, with a wide hand across his pecs and nipples.

He thought of how he encouraged the young man to use the index and middle fingers of both hands to ever so gently widen his entrance. He didn't need it but wanted Temp to know what was happening when John did it to him. Hannibal was large and wanted Temp well prepared.

He guided him to the nub within him and let him know how appreciated the contact with it was. Again he thought of how skilled he must be with women. Even for a first time out, Hannibal was having trouble containing himself. He opened his eyes directly into that pair of bright blues.

Face was manipulating him inside with one hand and kneading his lower stomach with the other. "How is that?"

He spread into a wide smile when Hannibal answered him with a groan.

Taking the hand from his abdomen, he pulled Face slightly forward, "Kneel where I can reach you." Face obeyed and Hannibal covered him with a condom and slick. "I need to feel you in me," taking his hips in his hands to guide him and raising his own legs higher.

Face used his hand to line himself up and slowly worked his way in. Hannibal stopped him here and there to become accustomed. It had, after all, been several years since he had shared this with a man.

Inching his way in to his hilt, Temp tentatively pushed and withdrew slightly, then again. Hannibal's large hands on his waist urged him on. Soon he established an easy rhythm. He brushed across John's happy button causing him to let out a growl.

Face stopped in his tracks, "Did I hurt you?"

"Anything but, sweet boy," using his hands to put him back in motion.

Holding Hannibal by the back of his knees he was picking up speed and force. He adjusted himself on his knees, a move that caused him to hit Hannibal's prostate with every thrust. John was moaning in time to Temp's pounding.

Without warning Face all but stopped buried deep inside. Slowly, ever so slowly he was drawing out. Further and further. He was almost at his tip when Hannibal barely whimpered in fear of losing Temp inside of him. As the sound came out of his mouth Temp glided back in.

_You teasing little bastard._

Again, slowly, slowly he retreated from the depths and warmth of John. Almost to the opening, it had become a game of chicken. Who would give first? Temp's glans was caught by muscle at the entrance. John held his breath and opened his eyes.

Temp was looking down at him a smirk on his face. Waiting. Waiting. No response. He pulled back only enough for a light tug, a tug outward. Hannibal took in a faint gasp. With it Face released the pressure and was gliding back in again as he whispered, "Good boy," satisfied in knowing he drew the soft sound from John's lips. Hannibal closed his eyes and began to breathe.

_Oh my god, I'm in love._

Drawing out again not as slowly as before as he reached the edge it was John's turn to whisper. "Please."

Temp obliged. With the hint of a smug smile he commenced his rhythm. They rocked fast and hard in unison until he could feel Face become irregular. John looked at his lover. His eyes were down, watching himself going in and out, then they slid shut. He bit down on his lower lip and squeezed John's legs as he tried for one more thrust before stuttering to a stop. Hannibal could feel his contractions as he pumped his seed.

Hannibal was aware of being back in his bed alone. His hand was wet and slick, a streak of cum up his T shirt, his breath coming in little pants, his eyes open but unseeing. He had become over sensitive and set his hand on his chest. As his tide had washed out his entire groin had become light, pleasantly empty.

There were aftershocks gently rippling through him. He wiped his hand and the few drops on his skin with his T then pulled the shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. He rested his hand back on his chest, fingering his tags, picturing the beautiful young man.

He had easily guided him back down. Face having let go of his legs, brought his head to Hannibal's chest, wrapping his hands around his shoulders from underneath. John stroked his head, combing his fingers through the slightly damp hair. He reached down to kiss his head and rested his hand on Temp's cheek as he lay there for minutes, his breathing returning to normal.

Face lifted his head, looking at him with those bright blue eyes, "What about you?"

Hannibal could only smile.


	12. Chapter 12

Face kept himself busy between working with the recruits and stopping in Hannibal's office. He would check in with the Colonel's assistant for anything requiring an officer, but not Hannibal in particular. He was surprised when Private Anderson wished him a good weekend. Was it Friday already?

Heading out of the administration building doors he checked his watch. It would be close to thirteen hundred when he got home. Just enough time for a nap. Will Tomlinson was picking him up at eighteen thirty hours. 

Will had called three days before, extending an invitation for all involved in Active Target to join him for cocktails, beer and appetizers at a local bar and BBQ pit. Face had told him he would pass along the invitation, but unfortunately would need to say thanks but no thanks for himself. Being the persistent person he was, Will finally had Face admitting he didn't trust himself to be driving alone at night. 

He didn't want to appear weak to the Major, but he also didn't want an accident. He had found the beams, especially high beams, from oncoming cars could trigger acute flashes of pain behind his eyes. Twice he had involuntarily jerked the wheel when it happened. The last time he walked to the store around the corner in the dark it hadn't been too bad, but he still didn't want to chance it. 

Will had told him if that was the only reason, not to worry, he would pick him up and deliver him back home. In that case he enthusiastically accepted. He hadn't done anything social since Hannibal took the three of them out the weekend before they left. He was up for a little entertainment. Will was relieved there was no further persuasion required. From what he had found from asking around the kid hasn't been out at night since Hannibal shipped out.

Face made the announcement at the end of the session on Wednesday. As they made their way back to the lockers he overheard one of the enlisted men ask Sgt. Law if she would be going Friday night. She said no, she doubted it. Before reaching the building Face caught up to her and asked if he could have a word.

They stood a distance from the door and she asked, "Yes, sir?"

"I couldn't help hearing you may not be joining us Friday night."

She looked a little embarrassed, "I .... I don't know, sir."

"I hope you are able to. Major Tomlinson is an influential man and I've told him about you and your abilities."

She looked a little surprised, "Thank you, sir."

"I think you could gain an advantage by meeting him and having him be able to picture you anytime your name might be brought up in the future. But if you're really not able to come, well, I think it would be too bad." He tried not to smile, but a little one slipped. 

"Sir, Thank you for the advice, sir." 

"Dismissed."

She threw him a salute and headed for the door.

 

Earlier on Friday when they were all back in the locker room, Mike was asking who would be going for drinks. Face was happy to hear Sgt. Law answer in the affirmative. With the exception of Sgt. Colt the Ranger boys were non-committal. He was in a hurry, wanting to stop by Hannibal's office and rushed out ahead of the rest.

Mike and Jorge were the last ones out and locking the door when they heard the young Rangers as they walked up the path. They were at it again. Jorge gave Mike a nudge and signaled to follow him.

"What is with you? You're always suckin' up to Peck," came from the group.

"I think you guys are idiots." It was Colt. "Maj. Tomlinson is the one who invited us. If it's not rude, it's just plain stupid not to accept. Aren't you guys tired of being stupid? I mean seriously, how are you making it through Ranger training?"

The instructors had caught up behind them. Jorge, who sounded suspiciously like Ricky Riccardo when speaking, said behind them, "Hey muchacho, you ever hear of the Faceman?"

"Sure who hasn't?" responded the other man.

"Well our Lt. Peck and the Faceman are one and the same."

"Thought the Faceman was one of those, what a ya call it? Urban legends."

"Nope. It's him."

"You sure?"

"Tell you what, tonight when we're out, try getting his attention by saying, 'Hey, Faceman!'. See if he answers to it."

"Man, that'd be great. If it's really him he'll have women flocking all over our table."

"Know what else?" asked Jorge. "You know who Col. Hannibal Smith is, don't you?"

" 'Course I do. What's he got to do with anything?"

"Well he's Col. Smith's XO."

"Peck?! He is not."

"Is so."

Sgt. Colt, who was in the lead, stopped dead. The other three, whose attention was on the conversation behind them rather than where they were going, ran into him like something out of a Marx Brothers movie. The two instructors flanked the group to pass them. When they joined together again on the path Mike threw a wink at his pal. They were sick of hearing these guys dis their CO.


	13. Chapter 13

Climbing into the Major's car Face said, "I really appreciate you picking me up, sir."

"We're going out for a night of fun, Face. Call me Will."

"Okay, will do. I mean I will, Will," Face fumbled around with the words. "Better quit while I'm behind."

Will laughed. He asked if Face had ever been to the bar. Face told him yes, many times and from there they settled into an easy conversation. Will got why Hannibal was so fond of the man. He was easy and affable.

An hour and a half later and their little party was already in full swing. Upon arrival Face and Will had commandeered several tall tables in one corner of the bar. Face flashed his smile at one of the waitresses and asked, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, to pay extra close attention to their party. Slipping her a hundred bill she said it wouldn't be any trouble at all.

The trayfulls Will had ordered of rib tips, Buffalo wings, mozzarella sticks and the like were disappearing as they hit the tables. The cocktail waitress kept the beer pitchers filled and made sure any mixed drinks were replaced.

Will called for everyone's attention to make a little speech of congratulations to the first class and thank yous to Face, Jorge and Mike. Toasts were made all around. Face also thanked the Major for his vision and participation in getting the program off the ground. Glasses were again raised.

Face took a seat on the stool to the left of Will. Sgt. Farrell had slipped onto the stool next to him. Though talking to the Corporal on her other side she regularly leaned back into the LT's arm or "accidentally" brushed his hand while reaching for her drink. Face caught on fast, but didn't want to make an issue of it. He spun his stool so his back was to her and took his hand off the table. This worked for a little while until he noticed she was now leaning her back fully on his.

The brats were close to drawing straws to see who would call out, "Hey, Faceman," when the need disappeared.

"Hey, Face!"

Face turned to the sound of his name, spinning Farrell into the table. He took the opportunity to pull his stool away. "Hey guys! When did you get in?" greeting Col. Ryan's men whom he had been stationed with in Iraq.

"Last week," said one of the group of a half dozen men.

One of the others clapped him on the shoulder, "How ya feeling, man? You look pretty good."

"Feelin' good. Much better."

"Man, Casey Bedrosian was in the ER waiting room the night they brought you in. Said you were in really bad shape. He didn't know who looked worse, you or Hannibal."

A few heads turned to the mention of the name.

"Yeah? I don't remember much. I was pretty out of it that night."

Face introduced them to the Major.

"We've heard all about your new project, sir."

"Now how did you boys hear about it all the way in the desert."

"Well besides it being on the web, Col. Smith's bragging about this one to anyone who'll listen," slapping Face on the back.

"Even some who won't!" one of them piped in to a round of laughter.

Face's stomach filled with butterflies and he felt a slight pressure in his chest hearing this snippet of news about his Colonel. His Colonel, _mine_.

He snapped back to the now and hoped no one noticed. _Don't be ridiculous Peck. No one could see anything_.

The group of men wished Face and the Major well and were absorbed into the bar crowd. Farrell was just about to make another move when a fashion model lovely redhead wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on him.

"Hi Face. Good to see ya."

Holding her around the waist, "You too, Stacy. How ya been?"

After a few pleasantries Will cleared his throat. Face looked over and hid a laugh before introducing the two.

"Are you here alone, Stacy?" the major inquired.

"Oh no. There's a whole group of us girls out tonight. I should get back. Just wanted to say hello to Handsome here," this time pecking him on the cheek.

"Why don't you ask your friends to join us. As they say, the more the merrier."

Face thought, _Aren't you married? Why you old dog. Or maybe he's divorced. Who knows? Either way he's drooling_.

After Stacy was off to gather her friends the Major addressed the table, "Need to take this guy out more often. He's better than a puppy in a park to attract female companionship."

Jorge raised his glass, "To Face!"

The other gentlemen chorused in, "To Face!"

Face was laughing, "But what about these two ladies?" he asked, motioning with his glass to Law and Farrell.

Someone shouted, "They have all of us everyday." More laughter all around.

Face looked at Sgt. Law who had been sitting quietly. She was looking down and blushing. _She's just shy._ He got up and went around the table to her. "Have you been properly introduced to the Major?"

"Sir, no, sir."

"Stop that. Tonight I'm 'Face'." He took her by the wrist, "Come on." She stumbled along behind him after he rather unceremoniously dragged her off her stool. "Hey Mike. Get your ass off that stool and give it to the lady."

While Michelle climbed on the stool now vacated next to Will, Face was tapping the Major on the shoulder, "Will. Hey Will, I want to introduce you to somebody."

Will leaned in, "And who is this?" He said with a warm smile and slightly raised brow.

"This is Staff Sergeant Michelle Law. She's the one I was telling you about last week."

Will sat up and switched back to Major mode. "I am very pleased to meet you soldier. Been hearing some great things about you." He immediately put her at ease while being a perfect gentleman and professional.

An hour later Face was almost done making his rounds through everyone present. He was pleased to see all participants of Active Target were there. The only ones left to mingle with were the brats.

"How are you gentlemen tonight?" He never let on he knew what they said in private. He simply stored it in case he needed it for the future.

"Sir, very well, sir," responded Campbell.

"Call me Face for the night."

Rank could be an issue in social settings like this. Will had given Face, Jorge, Mike, Capt. Johnson and Lt. Moore permission to call him Will for the night. In turn Jorge and Mike gave permission to all to use their first names and the Captain and Lieutenant requested they be called by their surnames. And Face of course was "Face".

"And how are you tonight?" Wells asked having wondered what the earlier conversation was about, him being in an ER, though he never got the chance to find out more.

"Frankly I think I'm done. I'm getting tired and if I have another drink it may not be pretty." He scanned their corner for the Major. Found him engrossed in conversation with a lovely young lady. "Doesn't look like my ride is ready to go anywhere. Better call a cab."

Stacy and her friend Morgan had been talking with the brats when he walked up. "I'll be happy to take you for a ride, Face," Stacy cooed.

Face smiled one of his signature megawatt smiles, "Tempting as that sounds, I really need to get some sleep." He had previously spent a night with Stacy. No, if he went with her he'd end up back in the hospital. "Maybe another time."

Stacy answered with a seductive, "I thought we'd have another time tonight."

As she turned and walked away all Face could say as he and the brats watched those hips sway was, "Oh my."

The brats all had the same thought in their heads, _How cool do you have to be if you can turn down that offer?_ That was the turning point. Maybe their CO wasn't so bad after all.

From behind him he heard someone say, "I'm on my way out. I can give you a ride home." It was Colt.

After catching the brats rolling their eyes, he put his arm around Colt's shoulder, "Thank you Dane. I appreciate it."

"You ready to go now?"

"Do I have time for a fast round of good-byes?"

"Sure."

Face made his way around as quickly as he could manage. When he got to Farrell she suggested he dump his current ride and get one from her. Nope, he was good. Thanks, but no thanks, turning on the smile again before moving on. He paraphrased in his head, _The only thing I'd ever get from her is sorrow_.

He was surprised to see Sgt. Law was still there in the little group that included Will. Not only was she still there she was smiling. He stood next to her and put a hand on her shoulder while he addressed the group, "I'm heading out. This was great, huh?" There was agreement from all. Removing his hand he turned to Michelle, "I'm glad you were able to make it."

She smiled and looked down, "So am I." Then looking up and over his shoulder, "Thank you." Her eyes darted at him briefly and he nodded.

In Will's ear he said, "I want to contribute to the bill. Let's split it."

"Nonsense! I'm already splitting it with the Army. I'm having them send it in two parts. I'll write write off half on my expenses." He gave Face a wink. "But I appreciate the offer. You sure you don't need a ride?"

"Yep, I'm good. Goodnight and thank you."


	14. Chapter 14

Driving home Face asked Dane about his shooting history, had he been on a team in high school? No, he'd never held a gun before joining the Army. Temp told him he was similar, he had fired a gun or three prior to enlisting, but didn't have any training until then. Dane gushed over Face's showing earlier in the week, his performance on the course.

Unguarded from his beers he explained, "I thought why I was chosen to head this up needed a little demonstration."

 

They were in the driveway. Face opened his door and asked, "Want to come in for a beer? A thank you for driving?"

"I really appreciate it, but I should get going. I probably shouldn't be driving now, much less after another one."

"Well then that settles it. You have to come in now. I can't having you drive home under the influence."

"No really, I don't want to put you out."

"Not at all. Got the house to myself. It's no trouble."

Dane opened his mouth to object again, but Face put a stop to it.

"Do I have to make it an order, Sergeant Colt?" Employing one of Hannibal's tricks. Using the subordinate rank.

"No, sir."

Inside Face told the young man to make himself comfortable.

"You want a lite, Coors or Guinness?"

"Nothing. Really, if I have another I won't be able to drive at all."

"Not to worry. You're spending the night here. Unless you really don't want a beer, in which case I have Sprite, root beer or Coke."

"I can't impose on you like that."

Face was tired, but got a bit of a second wind during the drive. He didn't want to be alone. "Of course you can. I insist. There's three bedrooms. You can have mine. I'm using Hannibal's while he's gone. He's got a monster bed. Now what do you want to drink?"

"Did you say you have root beer?"

"Be right back, gotta wash my hands too. Put them in something sticky on a table on the way out."

Dane walked around the room looking at the sparse decorations. Definitely a man's abode. On the mantle over the fireplace were several photos. The first was of Face with another man. Someone with splashes of grey fanning from his temples. Looked like they were at a BBQ or picnic, both sitting in camp chairs smiling, both reaching. It looked like they were exchanging a beer for a cigar. The next was of a little girl, maybe four or five years old, beaming up at the camera. Beside that was one of a priest with his hands on the shoulders of a boy standing in front of him. A beautiful child. He looked a little closer. Could that be Face? 

He took down the last one to look at in a better light. It was a shot taken in front of a jeep in front of a tent of four men in desert ACUs. It was Face and the same man, now silver-haired, and two others, one black, one white. The tall older man had his arms around the shoulders of Face on one side and the black man on the other. The fourth man was beside him. The black man on the right had his arms folded across his chest, the one on the far end was holding what looked like a pilot's helmet. Face was casually holding mostly in front of him what looked like an M110 SASS PSR, pointed to ground. He startled when the phone next to him rang.

"Would you answer that?" Face called from the kitchen. The phone cut off mid ring and he could hear one side of the conversation as he dried his hands and grabbed the root beers off the counter.

"Hello.....No, this is Sgt. Colt. May I tell him who's calling? ..... Oh! Yes sir! Just a minute sir."

As Face came around the corner the kid was holding out the phone like it was a hot potato needing to be handed off, "It's Col. Smith for you."

Trading a root beer for the phone, "Thanks." He put the phone to his ear as he headed for the stairs, "Hannibal? .... Yeah. Hi! I'm so glad you called. Oh, that's one of my students. Everyone okay?" His voice faded as he took two stairs at a time and headed to an upstairs room.

Staff Sergeant Dane Colt was yet again impressed by his firearms instructor. He had heard the other day Lt. Peck, or Face as he insisted on being called tonight, had been part of Colonel "Hannibal" Smith's unit, the Colonel's XO. But hearing him speak so casually to the legend moved the handsome LT up another notch in his estimation. Never mind the Colonel was calling him at home from Iraq. He admitted to himself he had a man-crush.

 

"Oh god I miss you."

"Careful Kid, don't want your guest to hear you."

"He can't. I'm in the master bath with the door locked."

Hannibal guffawed at that. "Maybe you should run some water, too," he laughed.

"Shut up."

"Been trying to call you for hours, now you're home with a guest?"

"Why Hannibal, you jealous?"

"Just curious."

"Will called me the other day and invited...."

Face told him about the evening. Hannibal talked about Murdock and BA. Temp started to tell Hannibal about the program and veered off to the star students, including Dane. Hannibal cut him off, saying he should get off the phone. 

"Oh. Okay. I've been home every night since you left and the one night I go out is when you call. Figures, huh? Will you call me tonight?"

"Uh...sure Kid. I'll try. You should get back to your guest."

"He can wait."

"You invite someone home you shouldn't leave them while you talk on the phone."

"I didn't exactly invite him home. He gave me a ride. He's kinda drunk so I told him he could spend the night."

"Uh huh. I'll try calling later, Kid."

"Okay. Say hi to Murdock and BA for me?"

"I will."

"Stay safe, John."

Face pressed the disconnect after he heard the click on the line. Sitting on the edge of the tub he looked at the phone. His heart sank.

 

Back downstairs, Dane was still looking at the pictures. 

"That's my unit. The tall guy in the middle is Hannibal. We've been together for years. Next to him is BA and next to him is Murdock."

"You stayed here to do this training?"

"It's more like I'm doing the training because I stayed here." Dane looked at him curiously. "I had meningitis."

"That's bad."

"Tell me about it."

"That why those soldiers were saying you were in the ER?"

"Yeah, we were in Iraq, but Hannibal brought me home. I'm still not cleared for deployment. Light duty. It's why I only work half days." He looked at the picture a few seconds longer. "I'm beat. I'm going to turn in, but you're welcome to stay up, watch some TV. There's a game console there. My room's up the stairs, first door on the right. Bath is at the end of the hall. I put toothpaste and a brush on the sink."

"Great, thanks. I think I'll go to bed too."

"Okay. I'm in the room across the hall if you need anything."


	15. Chapter 15

Face lay in the big, empty feeling bed holding John's pillow. It had been weeks since they left and this was the first time he had called. As the days had gone on, he began to wonder. Hannibal had been so upset the day he left, Face was surprised he didn't hear from him right away.

He knew Hannibal was a busy man, but still. Maybe once he was away from Face he had reconsidered what they were doing. Maybe he decided it wasn't worth the risk of going up against DADT or the possibility of a fraternization charge. It seemed like he couldn't get off the phone fast enough.

Face knew better. He knew better than to get involved in this. WTF. How could he be so stupid? Hannibal couldn't afford to keep him around, would have to cut him loose. Not to mention it would be too much to have to look at each other much less interact the way they needed to to get the job done.

He didn't want it to end. He'd never felt before that all consuming warmth he got from John. And the physicality, how could he do without that? He thought of lying between his legs, blissfully suckling him. He thought of the tight heat of being inside the man.

He remembered that first time, of lying with his head on Hannibal's chest, panting. Trying to get his wits back about him. He could feel that enormous cock along his own belly, pressing up to his ribs. It was still filled and so hard. Looking up to that face he knew so well asked, "What about you?" He wanted to feel the connection. Wanted to know what it would be like to have this man inside of him. To be joined with him.

Hannibal could only smile. Without words he rolled Face off. Now on his knees he slid an arm low under Temp's shoulders and lifted him as if he were a doll, straightening him on the bed. With one hand on his cheek he leaned down and kissed him. Heaven knew Temp had made out with more women than he could remember. Enough they were becoming a blur, but this was different.

Women were soft everywhere. No matter where you touched they were silken and had give, even the muscular ones while relaxed. This man though, was hard. Lying beside him again, holding his face like Hannibal was, his biceps were firm. Stroking down his back the long muscles on either side were thick and large. He could feel the calf muscles as he draped a leg over Face's own. Smoothing down past the valley of his back to the rise, instead of the softness he always loved to knead, he instead was met with John's solid ass. Everywhere he took hold he could feel power.

Yet along with the power were Hannibal's own silky soft spots. The insides of his arms. Where his hip met his thigh. Behind and below his ears and those pussy willow soft lobes themselves. He touched his own temples. Was he as soft as John? Is that why John so loved stroking his face? Those strokes he would just melt into. Melt into like he did that night.

From his face that large hand had moved down his throat. It wasn't rough and calloused feeling. Hard for sure, but he had noticed Hannibal using hand cream. Was that for him? To help him enjoy the older man's experienced caresses more?

He moved down Temp's belly, following the line of hair leading from his navel to his brush. He stopped there, running his fingers through the hair.

"Do you prefer it manscaped? I can shave."

"No." The reply was brusque. Then more softly, combing with his fingers, "I'm not a pedophile. Adult men have hair. If nowhere else, there's hair here."

He took Temp's flaccid sex together with his balls in one large hand and gently clutched them. Kneading carefully, rolling his balls with fingertips. He had just cum, but he could already feel the faintest spark of another rise. Then the hand was gone.

He expressed a barely audible, "No," in displeasure.

Hannibal repositioned himself then the hand was back, sliding between his thighs. "Spread your legs, babe." When he did John reached between and handled his ass. He worked his hand between Face and the bed, holding him just where his cheeks folded over to his legs. _Man, what was that?_ It felt so comforting it brought from him a sigh. He was so incredibly relaxed.

The hand slid up over his balls, over his slightly firmer penis, over his brush to his belly where the palm gently circled. Temps eyes were closed and he was on the verge of drifting off. So peaceful, he didn't even notice when the hand was gone.

A kiss on the lips brought him back to. "Not time to sleep yet, my beautiful boy."

Hannibal spread Temp with one hand while the other applied a dollop of slick at his entrance. Hannibal replaced the cap and stroked Temp's forehead. He urged his far knee up and out, to give him better access.

He pressed the slick into Temp's entrance followed by a finger with a bit of a twist. John watched Temp's face intently. Nothing there but contentment. He slid his finger in and out several times, avoiding the nub inside. He didn't want Temp reacting by clenching his muscles.

He removed his finger and quickly applied more slick to a second. Entering him again he carefully worked the second finger tip in. Watching his face, John slid them both home when the furrow between Face's brows eased. Again he took care to be sure any pressure was to the back so as not to trigger his prostate. Slow and steady.

Both fingers now came out and were replaced by the third. There was plenty of slick inside him to lube this digit. Again a second finger found its way inside. Temp was relaxed. John leaned in and kissed him to distract him from the third finger breaching the muscle. Temp barely felt a light burning that soon subsided. He was soon gently rocking his hips in time with John's hand. All the while his throat, neck and shoulders were being covered in light bites and kisses.

Hannibal pressed in deep, bringing a groan from Face's lips. He removed his hand and climbed over a thigh to land between Temp's legs. He urged Face's knees up and slid a pillow under him. He replaced his fingers from one hand with two fingers of his other then easily slid three fingers inside, two from one hand and one from the other. Face didn't flinch as Hannibal gently pulled him open in order to add the fourth, then spreading him from both sides. He took his time, ever so patiently.

He had left the slick on Temp's chest. Kneeling up so Face could reach him he said, "Slick my cock, Temp." How had Face missed seeing him roll on a condom?

Hannibal lined himself up and pressed while once again pulling apart with his fingers. When his tip felt heat from within Face's body he removed two fingers. The younger man's brow was furrowed, but Hannibal pressed on. With his tip almost encased he removed the last two fingers. This gave Temp relief and made it easy for him to accept Hannibal's size inching into him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm hmm," came the reply.

Hannibal began to rock. Only his glans and an inch were inside but he rocked this little bit. Temp again looked relaxed so he gave him a little more. There was no distressed reaction.

Now that the burn had gone Temp was quite enjoying this easy rocking. He wasn't sure if it was all it had been cracked up to be, but it was pleasant enough.... then Hannibal glided all the way in him.

"Oh," he half whispered, half sighed. Nothing he had ever experienced compared to this feeling of togetherness, of having this man actually inside of him.

Hannibal was sliding out. He repositioned on his knees, letting Temp's legs down just a bit and was sliding back in. Temp felt a muffled jolt and jumped slightly.

"What was that?"

"That, my boy, is your happy button, your prostate."

"Can you do it again?"

Hannibal was already sliding out, "Sure."

This time he pushed in a little harder. Hitting Temp's prostate brought a shudder from the young man. Doing it again brought a shudder and a quivering lower jaw. John now established a rhythm, causing Temp's entire body to rock along on the bed. He just lay back and enjoyed it.

The movement lulled him. He found he had raised his hands over his head, elbows out and thought to himself, _This is what it means when they say, 'take me'._

Hannibal's thrusts were becoming more powerful. Temp became more excited. His breath came quicker and his heart beat faster. Soon Hannibal all but pounded him, just this side of too much. He reached his hands towards John's shoulders. Hannibal leaned forward causing Temp to fold a little more. He looked into Hannibal's eyes touching his face with his fingertips, just on the top of his cheekbone and shook his head no. Hannibal backed off only a little and took Face's hard sex in hand, "Cum for me, Temp."

Didn't need to ask him twice. The words, the voice, the pitch, the rocking, the scraping along his prostate, the knowledge he loved this man all culminated. Hannibal just caught a glimpse of his pupils blowing wide before his lids slid shut, his body tightened and then pulsed.

John couldn't control himself any longer and shot inside the beautiful body beneath him. Heat radiated upward into his abdomen, spreading as far as into his ribs. His heart was pounding. _Oh Temp_.

Temp's groin felt light and empty, his heart too was pounding...

 

Face's eyes flew open and he was alone, holding Hannibal's pillow tight. There was moisture over his hand, his hand that was inside his sleep pants. So much moisture if he didn't get up soon and change, the fabric would be stiff and uncomfortable in the morning.

 

He had changed and was back in bed holding the pillow to his chest. As he drifted off he thought back to lying on his back as the remains of his orgasm pulsed through him. His knees were still up, feet flat on the mattress, legs spread. "You feel amazing."

Hannibal had taken tissues and wiped him. Now lying along side, Hannibal was propped up on an elbow. The palm of his hand circled low on Face's abs.

"Being inside of you was amazing. But John, you inside of me? ...." His face spread into a beaming smile as his eyes drifted over the man's face. Hannibal silently leaned down to kiss him.

John's hand pulled the pillows out from under him then slipped around his waist, rolling him over and drawing him in. As he began to fade into sleep Face was struck by the powerful man's gentleness towards him and was grateful for it. He couldn't think of a time he had felt so grounded, when he felt so safe.

 _Oh god John, I love you and I miss you_.


	16. Chapter 16

Face was roused by the sound of movement in the room. He uncovered his head and saw Dane half way between the bed and the door.

"What's up?" he mumbled.

"I wanted to see if you were up so I could tell you I was gonna get going."

Temp rolled to see the bedside clock, 0615. "Don't." He stretched his long legs and rubbed his eyes. "Let me buy you breakfast." He stretched again and yawned. "I kinda neglected you when Hannibal called last night."

He learned the night before it wouldn't do any good to argue, "Sure, sounds good."

"Give me a few to get dressed. You want coffee? The beans are in the cabinet above the maker and the grinder's next to it."

"That's okay. I'll just wait."

 

Dressed and downstairs Face collected the keys for the car and led the way to the garage. Dane's mouth fell open when saw the 1965 Corvette Sting Ray. Face closed the door to the house and pressed the button to open the garage door.

"Hop in."

He had backed to the end of the driveway when he stopped and rolled down his window. There was an elderly woman walking toward them along the sidewalk, "Good morning Mrs. Larson."

She leaned down to look in the window, "Good morning Templeton. Lovely this morning isn't it?"

"That it is. Good morning, Winslow." The Corgi by her feet cocked his head at the mention of his name. "We're going for breakfast. Would he like a doggy bag?"

"That's kind of you to offer, but no. His vet has put him on a diet."

"Too bad, Winslow. Maybe next time. You have a good day Mrs. Larson."

"Thank you Templeton. The same to you."

He backed onto the street. "She's a nice lady. She brings us cookies."

"So you live here all the time?"

"Yeah. I had my own place, but was here so much Hannibal said just to move in, I could help with the mortgage. That was several years ago. And now we're with Murdock and BA, they come and go a lot too."

Dane was listening, but was also intent on stroking the dash in front of him. "Is this yours or the Colonel's?"

"She's all mine. Waffle House sound good or you want something a little more upscale?"

"I love the Waffle House."

"So does Hannibal."

Down the road a ways he spun the wheel and turned into the lot. Parking in a far corner they had a short walk to get to the door. Dane was as tall as Face, but not as filled out. Inside Marlene elbowed Karen and pointed with her chin at the two men. Karen stood straighter and smiled watching the two match strides with their long legs as they came across the parking lot.

It was Marlene's turn for a seating, but Karen said, "I'll pay you for their table."

"No way! This is going to be the highlight of my morning. Besides you got him last time he was here with Hannibal."

The two men took a booth with Marlene right behind carrying a coffee carafe. "Good morning, Face. And who is this handsome thing you've delivered to our door today?"

"Hey, Marlene. This is Dane. Dane, this is Marlene."

"Good morning Ma'am."

"Aren't you the cutest thing. But call me Ma'am again and you'll find yourself with a lapful of hot coffee. Makes me feel old and I'm not even twenty-five."

"Yes Mmm..."

"Marlene," Face offered.

"Marlene," he laughed.

They sat a long while over their breakfast talking about this and that. Face was pleased to hear the young man was finishing up a degree and would be graduating from Ranger School soon. He and the other baby Rangers were on an unconventional hiatus in order to participate in the sniper program. Dane listened as Face talked about an exploit he and Hannibal had in Venezuela a few years back.

"You miss them, huh?"

"Who's that?" Finished eating, Face was leaning back with his arms extended out across the back of the booth.

"Your unit. You talk about them a lot."

"Do I?" Face smiled looking out the window, "Yeah, I do miss them. They're my family."

"You know who'd like to be part of your family is Marlene."

"She's pretty isn't she? And kindava goof, but in a good way. Ask her out."

"Nah. She likes you."

"Well I'm not asking her. I haven't got the energy to date. Last night proved that. Man, I'm wiped. You ask her."

"She wouldn't want to."

"Why not? Tall, handsome young soldier. You're quite the catch. If I wasn't so tired I'd go out with you." That made Dane laugh. "Or wait. I _am_ out with you!" This got them both laughing. "Oh my god, are you blushing?" More laughter. "Tell ya what. I'm going to the men's room. I'm going to spend plenty of time washing my hands. Give 'em a thorough cleaning. When I get back, I expect to hear when the two of you will be going on a date." With that he got up and left the table.

When he returned he stood by the table and fished a tip out of his wallet. Dane looked up at him, "Wednesday at 1900."

Face smiled wide, "My work here is done. Come on. I gotta go back to bed."

Walking back out across the lot Face tossed the keys, "Home, Dane."

"Really?"

"You don't have to drive it if you don't want to."

"Who said I didn't want to?"

Waking again early afternoon he was lying across the bed still wearing the clothes he put on for breakfast. He checked the phone he left at his side. Four missed calls from the night before. Two had messages from John, two were hang ups, also from John. He vaguely wondered why John hadn't called his cell phone. Well, he'd be home tonight. Hell he'd be home all day and night. The party had really worn him out. It gave him a reminder of just how off his game he still was.

Taking the phone with to sit on the sink he took a shower and changed. The house was clean and he had done laundry earlier in the week. He had nothing to do but watch movies and wait for Hannibal to call.

Stepping out the front door on his way to their mailbox, he almost put his foot on the plastic wrapped paper plate containing a mound of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Instead when he caught sight of it, almost too late, he half jumped over it and fell to the concrete. He had a badly scraped hand, but the cookies were spared. _Thank you, Mrs. Larson_.

Back in the kitchen he removed two cookies from under the plastic and put the rest in the freezer. They had given him an idea. He would send the guys a care package. During the week he'd collect comic books, BBQ seasonings, DVDs, cigars, some good scotch and that book he had seen in the bookstore window. The one about converting GMC vans. And a cookie tin.

Settling himself down on the sofa, hand bandaged, he surfed through to find a movie. Score. The original Manchurian Candidate was on, then after, To Live and Die in LA. That would keep him busy while he waited for Hannibal. Except Hannibal never did call that night.


	17. Chapter 17

It wasn't until Wednesday before the phone rang.

"I'm so sorry I didn't get back to you the other night. We were called out to back up Clarke's unit."

"I thought you were mad at me."

"No, I'm not mad. And I was a jerk the other day too. I'm sorry Face. It's ...it's hard to talk like this."

"Yeah, I know."

"Tell me about your students."

"There's a few that are really good. But we don't need to talk about that. How is Murdock doing?" He didn't want to get back on the subject of Colt. He joked about it, but he thought Hannibal sounded unhappy about the whole thing the other night. He figured that was why he hung up do abruptly.

"He's doing alright. I wouldn't call it great, but he's okay." Hannibal thought Face skipped over the subject of his students pretty fast.

"That doesn't sound good. What's going on?" He should be there with them, not stuck in Georgia.

"BA says he seems to be having more nightmares than usual. I was thinking of switching beds with BA for a couple of nights so he can get some solid sleep." He didn't want to mention Murdock just doesn't have the same enthusiasm as when Face is around. Didn't want to tell him how much he thought the pilot missed him.

"Yeah, well BA doesn't have the patience for that."

"He's actually been surprisingly good with him. Been proud of him. It's like the night you were so sick. He took good care of him when you couldn't."

 _Thanks, BA. No one else always pulls through like you do_.

"Will you ask Murdock to call me? I'm here most afternoons and every evening." He immediately felt stupid, "I should say except for the one night Will took us all out. But, he can always call my cell too."

"I'll make sure he calls. It'll be good for him," and you too. "And Face? Don't apologize for going out and having some fun. Okay?"

"Yeah, Okay."

"I'm sorry I have to cut this short, but I really need to get going. Russ is expecting me for a post mission with Clarke."

"That's alright Hannibal. Make sure you have Murdock call me, Okay? And stay safe."

"I will on both counts. Bye Temp."

 

They both felt particularly dissatisfied after the call.

 

Face went to the kitchen table where he had the items for the care package. He had been on the hunt for the tape gun he knew they had somewhere around the house when Hannibal called. He found it on the self in the closet and set to putting the package together. The last item in was an envelope addressed to Hannibal. Inside the card was simple stationary containing a note, "Stay safe," he signed it "Temp". He would take it to Hannibal's office the next day for his assistant to mail.

 

Hannibal met with Russ and Clarke then went to find Murdock. "I talked to Face earlier."

"Really? What did he say? How's he doing?"

"You'll have to ask him yourself. He was adamant I have you call him."

"Okay. I guess I don't think of making calls. You guys are usually all here. We haven't been apart." Murdock looked down to study a very interesting wrinkle across one of his knuckles.

"I know, Murdock. I miss him too."

Hannibal's team felt a bit ragtag, certainly not the nearly indestructible force they usually were. Two men were assigned to their Alpha Team in Face's absence. Hannibal felt even with two they were sorely lacking. Russ sensed it too.

The missions they had been sent on could be described as lackluster at best. This was partially perception and mostly fact. Hannibal and Face barely needed words to communicate. Their reactions to each other were intuitive. As one pushed the other instinctively pulled, seldom did they work against each other. It made for smooth operations for each other, but also for their teammates who never questioned the direction they were taking at any given moment.

They each, in their own way, were feeling at a loss not only personally in camp, but also while on duty. The two gentlemen, Lieutenants Hawkins and Lehan, though well trained US Army Rangers, just didn't have the "it" factor their Lieutenant Peck possessed. As a supply officer Lt. Hawkins was efficient, though not particularly creative. As a graduate of Sniper School Lt. Lehan was a good and well above average shot; although, he lacked Face's chilling accuracy.

As a result of these, what Hannibal considered, limitations, he backed away from the more daring and complicated missions. While their usual four man team moved and worked together like a beautifully muscled and well balanced big cat, with Face missing they felt more like a mule with a hitch in its giddy-up.

Hannibal had concerns for the team's ability to be effective and their wellbeing. He wouldn't risk the boys' safety due to a lack of unity and/or confidence. Though on a different level, Russ knew Hannibal as well as Face did. He could clearly see until Face's return Hannibal and his boys would be no different than the other units in camp.

Murdock was lost and if asked had no compunctions about admitting it. From the time they returned to Benning from Mexico, Face and Murdock had become the closest of friends and they were each thankful for the other. Murdock for someone who accepted and like him for him. And Face who was thankful someone accepted and liked him for him.

Murdock had some serious mental issues. He was no fool, and knew as well as anyone. He found for himself the easiest way to live with them outside a facility full of mental issues was to beat everyone else to the punch. One way of keeping control over his own life was to be in control of his insanity. It was a losing battle to try to keep control over his sanity. He didn't have the strength to turn the wheel back when his mind veered off course.

Instead he found it much easier to take that wheel and guide his mind through the insanity, avoiding the obstacles, ditches and minefields as best he could. Fortunately he found Face didn't demand he remain sane at every juncture. He only asked Murdock continue to be his friend. A friend who didn't want Face for what Face could do for him.

Murdock appreciated that Face was as intelligent as himself. He appreciated he was so different from himself. He appreciated they could head down a dusty trail of silliness together without looking back. But mostly he appreciated, without fawning, how kind Face was to him. How for all of their goofiness, when things went bad Face was there for him. If it was by distracting him with nonsense, a hand on his shoulder or arm, a warm hug or holding his hand into the night as he tried to recapture sleep after a nightmare, he never felt Face looked down on him.

Hannibal and BA did their best to fill in for his buddy, but it wasn't the same. During darker times the Colonel was there for him doing the best he could. Hannibal had a fatherly way about him. A father who by his very presence demanded respect, but who rewarded that respect with affection. All three of the men responded to him and now Murdock was soaking in as much of that affection as he could.

BA didn't chase Murdock off when he was tinkering with a project and involved him as best he could if it was only having the pilot hand him tools. Murdock could clearly see Bosco was biting his tongue not to tell him to shut up when he headed off on a tangent. He appreciated the effort, but missed being accompanied on the journey.

BA, if asked, probably wouldn't associate the feeling of malaise he was recently feeling with the absence of their LT. He was feeling disjointed. Having been on his own, or at least thinking he was on his own, for most of his life he wouldn't consciously admit to himself much less anyone else an important part of his life was missing. He figured the Colonel was missing his handsome young man, but BA had none of those inclinations.

He didn't miss men, much less pine for them. Yet too often something would happen or be said around the base that would trigger BA. A remark would be made and he was surprised when there was no Face to make a clever quip in return. Or when Hannibal thought they looked sloppy during their last training session. His insistence they do it again was met with yes-sirs instead of a whiny little kid's voice coming from their adult Lieutenant. He'd be pissin' and moanin' and making a fuss yet doing exactly what their Colonel asked without flaw.

The Colonel, for all his commanding presence seemed a bit out of balance. He and his XO worked together seamlessly, often knowing what the other wanted or needed without having to verbalize. Now he saw Hannibal giving orders to the replacements for things Face would take care of instinctively. He had to spell out the way he wanted things. It all looked so frustrating.

They learned in the first couple of missions, no matter how well BA calculated as spotter, their replacement gunner, though very good, was not unerring like the Faceman. There wasn't a confidence about the two men that always radiated from their LT. Not to mention BA referred to him as "their LT". Face was their's and they were his.

The situation was unsettling to BA, but at the time all he could do was mash it down and hide it away. There were a couple of brothers who had suggested to BA a little zen and introspection may do him wonders, but he looked on it as a bunch of hocus pocus. Real men bucked up and took what was handed to them. Living by this motto, BA didn't recognize when it maybe letting him down. He was just thankful it was Face who was missing and not Hannibal. Hannibal was the one who held everything together.


	18. Chapter 18

"What do you mean, another five to six months?!"

"Tomlinson didn't ask me if I wanted to do it, he told me I was going to do it."

"You were supposed to come back to us when you were well, not be sent off to the mountains of all places!" Hannibal was pissed. "This won't do."

"You're not expecting _me_ to tell him that, are you?" Hannibal didn't answer. Face almost took the phone away from his ear to look at it. "I might be a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them."

"I can't talk about this now!"

"Don't be mad at me about it! It wasn't my idea."

"I'm not mad at you!"

"You could have fooled me!"

"I'll call you back tomorrow."

"Wait. Hannibal!"

"I said I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"John!" All he got was a click and dead air. "Dammit!"

 

It had been four months since his unit returned overseas without him. Face was anxious to complete the turnover of the rest of his files, outlines and recommendations when he was called to meet with Tomlinson early one evening.

"Lieutenant, come in. At ease. Have a seat." Tomlinson fished a bottle of scotch out of his desk along with two glasses.

 _Is scotch the only thing these guys are allowed to drink on base?_ Face thought to himself as he reached for the proffered glass. "Thank you."

"How are you feeling Face?"

"I feel great. My doctor has released me to return to my unit just as soon as we tie things up and graduate this class. I'm looking forward to it."

"You look good. Quite a difference from the young man I met a few months ago. You look strong."

"I'm about eighty percent back to my old workout routine."

"Good, good." Will rose and moved around from his desk taking the chair next to the LT. "Face, I can't tell you how pleased I am with the work you've done here. I wanted to be the one who tells you I've recommended you to receive a commendation for your efforts."

"Thank you, sir. That's very much appreciated. Certainly not something I was expecting."

"No need to thank me, you're the one who earned it." He tinked his glass to Face's and took a sip. "Tell me your opinion of Sergeants Halvort and Sanchez."

"I think they're both efficient and knowledgeable. I couldn't have run this without them."

"Do you feel one was superior to the other?"

"They both have their strengths. Technically, Halvort is better. Sanchez is great on the personnel front. Neither one of them is a slouch, but put them together and they're a complete package."

"Is there any reason we need to consider replacing them?"

"None. They are exemplary. I've turned over most of my files to them. I was actually going to meet with them together early next week to go through the rest."

"Good, good," finishing his glass and refilling. He held up the bottle, raising his eyebrows in a question.

Shaking his head no, Temp held his glass up to show him he still had half his original pour.

"Let's talk about your involvement in the next phase."

"I'm sorry?" _WTF! I'm suppose to go join Hannibal._

"I've given this a lot of thought and I think we can expand the program into an all terrain application. Think of it as a sniper version of the Ranger Mountain Phase." He got up and rifled through files on his desk finally locating his goal. Handing it to Temp he said, "Take this home with you and go through it. It's just the start of my thoughts. I'd like you to brainstorm this the way you did with the first phase."

"Okay, I can do that." _WTF_

"Good, good. I also want to talk to you about an evening out with me for yourself, the Sergeants and your top three students. How does this Tuesday sound?"

"It's fine for me, but let me check with the rest." He finished his drink and looked a little lost as to where to set the glass.

"Oh, here. I'll take that, unless you wanted another."

"No. I'm good, thank you." He fiddled with the file in his hands for a moment. "Was there anything else, sir?"

"Nope. That'll do, Face. Looking forward to having you for another five or six months. And Face?"

_Five or six months?_

They were standing, "Yes, sir?"

"Call me Will."

Face was still trying to work the five or six months around in his mind. Blankly he said, "Okay."

As he reached the door Will said, "Good, good. Bye Face."

"Bye Will."

He closed the door behind him and thought, _You bastard_. Not only was he trying to commandeer his life he was trying to cloak it in friendship. Tomlinson knew damned well this was winding down and he was to return to Hannibal's unit. Temp knew he had been manipulated into using the Major's first name. He knew the Major was forming a link, a tie between them and if Face hedged it could and would be construed as an insult. _You manipulative bastard._

He knew better than to try to reach Hannibal for anything but an emergency. Besides him being a busy man things had been tense between them. Hannibal always seemed on edge and he couldn't determine if he was the cause. They of course needed to speak in code regarding anything personal between them; unfortunately, they didn't appear to have the same deciphering sheets and misunderstandings abounded.

Temp was feeling as though he couldn't relate to Hannibal. He seemed to become irritated when he would talk about anything but the nuts and bolts of Active Target. He didn't want to hear anything about his personal life. Nothing about the new friends he had made and how they spent time. Hannibal told him not to feel guilty about having some fun, but he always did when John would abruptly change the subject.

He was growing tired of talking about his health. There wasn't much to say there. Progressing slowly yet steadily, he was now back to feeling like himself. He really only noticed a difference if he tried too hard to push himself. Though always having been able to eke out bursts of energy, they weren't in evidence at present. He hoped they would return soon. And with the exception of aching to be back with the team his depression had eased.

From his conversations with Murdock and BA he was aware Hannibal was feeling the stress of his not being there. Though assigned two people to fill in, Murdock told him it wasn't going smoothly for anyone. So badly in fact they were lucky to pull a basic reconnaissance around the camp perimeter, much less anything with any meat to it. Their typical pull now were goodwill jaunts.

His and John's conversations were feeling forced, with little of their previous ease. It seemed obvious he was needed back with the team; however, he didn't know if he was needed back by Hannibal. Could they have one without the other? While still in the throes of his illness it could send him to bed in tears. More often now it sent him to the corner bar for an angry beer. He often wondered where exactly he fit in now or if he did at all.

He had put the call in to have Hannibal reach him. To his way of thinking this was an emergency. John had been so pissed he yet again cut him off. Leaving him to wonder if he was angry because Face put in an emergency call or because of the subject. Or, he wondered was it both?

It was going on 1900 hours and Dane was waiting for him. They were meeting several more of the Active Target team for dinner and were on their way out the door when Hannibal finally called.

"I can't talk to you now, Hannibal. I'm on my way out."

"Temp, I need a few minutes with you now." He was sharp.

"Now who's acting like a pissy teenager?"

"....I deserved that. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for the way I was yesterday."

"Instead of apologizing for being such a shit all the time, why don't you just stop being one?!"

There was no answer. _Did I really render Hannibal speechless or did I piss him off....again? Whatever._ "Look, John, I have someone waiting for me."

"Let me just tell you I'm going to talk to Russ about this, but I don't want to do it without talking with you first. So how about I call back tomorrow. Will you be free then?"

Face sighed. "Yeah. I'll be here from around 1600 hours on."

"Okay. I'll talk to you then. And Temp? ... I really am sorry for last night. I have no good excuse to treat you like that. I won't insult you by trying to come up with one."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. And don't forget to stay safe."

Face returned the phone to it's charger and reached for his jacket. When he turned he was briefly startled to see Dane. He had forgotten he was even there.

"Is everything alright?"

Temp didn't realize he was shaking his head no while he was saying, "Yay, it's fine."

The drive was quiet, but as they walked through the cars parked in the restaurant lot Dane stopped, blocking Temp, "You know Face, if you ever need to talk about something..."

"Thanks, Dane."

By the time they were leaving he had almost forgotten how miserable he was.

Pulling into the driveway Face thanked Dane for chauffeuring him once again. "Anytime, Face. Want me to pick you up next Tuesday for the dinner with the Major?"

"Ya know, I think I'll be okay. I was looking at the lights coming at us all the way home and I didn't even get a twinge."

"If you're sure." He sounded unconvinced. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"I will. But I gotta get back to it. I'm tired of walking around if I want to get somewhere at night or relying on other people's generosity." Dane looked like he was preparing to shut off the car and come in, but Face wanted to be alone. "Thanks for the ride, Dane. I'll see ya in a couple of days."

"You won't be at training tomorrow?"

"No. I have a ton of paperwork to do and I've been trying to stay on top of Hannibal's too. I won't be back for a day or two." Before closing the car door, "'Night Dane, thanks again."

Closing the front door behind him he heard the silence of the house and thought this was one of those nights. A night when the place feels so empty. Maybe he should have invited the kid in for a little company.

_Listen to yourself. Got yourself your own "kid"._

He turned on no lights until he was upstairs in the bedroom. Laying down on the bed he had a photo of the four of them. This was the one that lived on the dresser next to the picture of Sarah, Hannibal's daughter, soaring on a backyard swing set.

The photo wasn't posed like the one downstairs. It depicted them perfectly. BA was scowling at Murdock who sat looking at him in wide eyed innocence. Face was laughing at the two while Hannibal took in the scene with a benevolent look on his face. Tonight though he saw something different. Something that you really needed to study the picture to see. Hannibal wasn't taking in the group, he was looking squarely at Face. And the look of benevolence could instead be one of longing.

How long ago had this picture been taken, Face wondered. How long had John held close the feelings Face only recently discovered the man had for him? For himself it was probably within the first year of their being together he knew he loved the man. It was quite the revelation he had made to himself. But when had he fallen in love with him? It had been so long he didn't know. Quite some time before this photo was taken. Well before either of them had ever heard of Baracus or Murdock. Hannibal had told him he always felt Face was unique, but when had it changed to wanting, to a longing? He touched John's image with the pad of his finger.

Still looking at the photo he reached for John's pillow and pulled it close. It was losing his scent. He needed to be back with his Colonel. He needed to be back and have his Colonel still want him. Even if Hannibal didn't want him as a lover he still needed to be with him. With him and Murdock and BA.

He set the picture on the nightstand and wrapped his arms around the pillow. He thought of holding John in his arms, his head under Temp's chin. He could almost feel the huffs of breath whisper through his chest hair. He could barely smell the unmistakable scent of Hannibal, his aftershave and cigars and his very own musk. He thought of kissing the top of his head, resting his lips in the silver silk there. The picture in his mind of those grey blue eyes looking up at him fluttered his stomach. He couldn't lose this now that he had found it. He closed his eyes and conjured dreams of them together again.

 

They talked the next night going over what Hannibal would say to Russ; although, Russ wasn't going to be happy with this turn of events either. He had been without his star team since the night months ago when Face had fallen ill. Russ would be well within his rights to order the Major to relinquish their LT immediately. However, Hannibal didn't want this to reflect badly on Temp. He didn't want any of the blame for his being pulled on his shoulders.

They agreed Temp would probably need to remain in the States for awhile longer. Hannibal didn't want to ruffle the Major even if both he and Russ outranked him. Temp, after giving it some thought, didn't want to just up and ditch the program he had put so much into.

"Alright, Kid. I'll talk to Russ over some scotch tonight. And thanks to you I have quite a nice bottle of it here."

Temp smiled hearing his gift to Hannibal was as appreciated as those to Murdock and BA. "Stay safe, John."

"You don't even need to say that, Kid. At the rate we're going you're in more danger than we are."

"I still have to say it. It's important to me."


	19. Chapter 19

Hannibal sat at his desk fingering the most recent card he had received from Face. This was the fourth one in as many months. They contained no news, no highlights, no little moments of life or photos. Instead each enthused the same sentiment, "Stay Safe," written in Temp's lovely cursive, a leftover of years in a parochial school. Each were addressed to him alone, no mention of the other men. He didn't know what to make of it. Temp sent these cards, yet sounded so hesitant on the phone. It was possible their separation had given his new lover a glimpse of the world outside his A-team. A very attractive and inviting glance.

Hannibal had looked into Sgt. Dane Colt. He was rather startled when he saw a photo of one very handsome young man. He thought Face and Colt probably made a real statement walking side by side. Face only referred to him as a student, never as a friend or anything else. He had mentioned making some new friends, but then stopped talking about them. Hannibal was feeling so uncertain. It was something terribly foreign to his nature. He was always confident, even when he had no right to be. But being without Temp had rattled him. He was irritable and too often took it out on Face himself. He wasn't typically a jealous man, but he felt possessive of his Templeton. If he wasn't careful he would drive Temp away, yet he didn't seem to be able to help himself.

Russ, as expected, was none too happy about the news from Face. He and Hannibal both felt they were in a holding pattern. Too many missions had been farmed out to the hired guns, who couldn't spell nuance much less define it. He and Hannibal made their plan over Hannibal's scotch and a phone call to Temp himself. Russ would have it typed and sent on its way the following morning.

From what Hannibal knew of the first phase of Active Target, Face would be instrumental in planning the syllabus for the course. Even with hands on field work, Temp was certain with the help of Mike and Jorge, he could have it mapped out and ready to implement in two weeks. That plus another two weeks of training observation and he would be satisfied with turning the project over. Besides he saw no reason for the planning and through completion of the course to take four months, much less six. Russ felt Tomlinson knew a good thing when he saw it and thought he would try to keep the LT for himself. "That's not going to happen on my watch," he assured the two men.

Russ had told Temp to hang tight and if questioned, he knew "nothing of the struggle over his body and soul". Hannibal told him he would call again in a day or two, if that was convenient for Temp. Temp told him he had a dinner that night with Tomlinson, but after that he had nothing in the afternoons and evenings.

 

Face took a seat at the table just as he saw Will and Mike entering the dining room. Soon their little party was together. Face was sitting across the table from Dane and asking how things were going with Marlene when Will called for everyone's attention.

"Thank you everyone for coming out tonight. I'm particularly pleased to see Capt. Johnson and Sergeants Colt and Law this evening." He nodded in their direction. "Face, Mike, Jorge, as you are all aware due to your success, we are expanding this new program to a second phase involving all terrain." The other three additional attendees all looked at each other. "LT. Peck will again head up the development and implementation as he did for the first phase. Sergeants Halvort and Sanchez will again assist him throughout the course.

"This has been Lt. Peck's baby, but all children must at some point go out on their own and this program will need to do just that. Lt. Peck will not be able to continue in the capacity he has been. I have other plans for our LT. Allow me to give you all a rundown on what we have in mind."

 _We? Who the hell is 'we'?_ thought the Lieutenant. _Must be referring to the royal we._

Temp sat with a smile plastered on his face, hoping no one would notice his distress. It seemed the Major was orchestrating something of a surprise for everyone present. He thought it would have been nice if Will had let him in on it before springing whatever it was he had up his sleeve.

"Phase II of what we are currently calling Active Target will be, as I mentioned, an all terrain variation of the current course. What we have in mind we liken to Ranger Mountain Phase. It will take place in a more natural setting as compared to the urban habitat of the current program.

"Of course, the group that will soon be completing Phase I will not be the only class to participate in this micro course. In order to staff two courses running simultaneously we need to increase staff. With that in mind I spoke with Lt. Peck and asked him to invite tonight his pick of the top three members of the current class. I would like to start with the three of you to determine first if any or all of you would join us permanently to become instructors.

"So I ask you Captain and Sergeants Colt and Law to consider this. I will not be expecting an answer until next week. However, I need to make it clear at this time, this is not a guarantee. We will need to assess your teaching abilities. Just because you are excellent marksmen does not necessarily translate into excellent instructors. But I would like to start here."

Outside of himself, Face's next thought went to Sgt. Law. He questioned if she could invoke a fortified presence required to deal with the soldiers who would pass through the courses. He couldn't imagine her having the strength to handle the Brats of the current group. Had he known what Will's intentions were he could have made more appropriate recommendations.

Will continued, "We are hoping to have all of the current participants continue on to Phase II. While the three of you will be a part of the class, you will also work with Sergeants Halvort and Sanchez and Lt. Peck separately during this initial run." He paused here to take in the reactions of the group, especially Face, and concluded so far so good.

"As I mentioned Lt. Peck will again work on development and implementation. From there I hope to have him transition this course into the standard training for all Rangers. I have come to look at Lt. Peck as my XO in not only the development, but also the continuation of this program."

Looking down at his plate Face felt his faux smile waver. He took a sip from his water glass to cover the stumble. When he again raised his eyes he was looking directly at Dane. He could see the confusion in his expression. When their eyes met Dane understood. This had been as much of a surprise to Face as the rest of them. He also knew the LT was attached to and XO to another CO. A question passed across his features. Face barely shook his head no in response.

Temp didn't register anymore of the speech. He mimicked the rest of the group; when they smiled he smiled, when they looked intent so did he. As far as he was concerned he couldn't get out of the restaurant soon enough. If asked an hour later, he wouldn't have been able to say what he ordered for dinner.

Dane was returning from the men's room when he saw Face's back passing through the door to the parking lot. He looked at the table. No one was looking at him so he followed the LT.

"Face! Hey Face, wait up."

Face turned when he heard his name, then groaned to himself when he saw Dane jogging across the lot. He'd had had a shock. He wasn't up to entertaining the Sergeant.

As the younger man reached him he started to say, "Dane I'm really not up for..."

But before he could finish, Dane had his arms around him in a hug. Stepping back he asked, "Are you okay Face? He can't really make you stay, can he?"

Face was taken aback by the sincerity and understanding obvious in the kid's expression. "I hope not." He looked down at his car keys, "Dane, I have to get out of here."

"You want company?"

Still looking at his keys he intended to shake his head no but instead said, "Yeah."


	20. Chapter 20

"Does the Colonel know?" asked Dane accepting the beer.

"Yeah. He's working on it, him and General Morrison."

"I don't mean to pry, but it kinda sounded like you and the Colonel aren't getting along all that well. Maybe this will work out for you."

Face suppressed a flinch, "You mean the other night?" Dane nodded. Face dismissed it, "That was just stress."

The last thing he wanted was for this guy who was essentially a stranger, to see something obvious he missed. Or worse saw something obvious he was flat out refusing to see. No, he was sure it was just stress. Hannibal wouldn't act like that toward him normally and John wouldn't either.

"I was worried about you when Tomlinson said you're _his_ XO. You turned so pale."

"That was the first I heard of it. He made it sound like we had discussed it. He made it sound like we discussed the three of you becoming involved with the training and we didn't." Face took a pull off his beer. "We talked about Phase II and he told me I would be staying for five to six months. I told Hannibal I only needed a couple of weeks. Didn't know why Tomlinson thought it would take so long."

"What about making it part of Rangers training?"

"News to me."

"So Col. Smith doesn't know about this, this part."

"No. We figured I would stay a little longer. I told him I wanted to. I didn't want to abandon the program. Wanted to outline the second phase before I left, but now I just want to get out of here."

He stood and walked to the fireplace. Resting his beer bottle on the mantle he leaned against it and sighed. Running his hand through his hair, "I gotta put a call in to Hannibal. I'm sorry. It won't take long. I can never reach him directly. He'll call me back."

"Take your time."

"Help yourself to another beer if you'd like. You're welcome to spend the night." He took the phone and headed out the door to the patio.

Dane was sitting down with a bottle of root beer when he came back in. "They're out on an overnight. It's 0700 there so I may not hear from him until sometime tomorrow." He finished off his beer. "Shit. What a mess." He took his empty back to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. "Man, I feel bad I invited you guys to have him spring something like this. I thought it was just congratulatory. What about you? What are you thinking you're going to do?"

"I still have another sixteen hours for my degree. I'm almost there. I wouldn't consider dropping that. Besides, I want to join the Rangers. Wouldn't be able to do both."

"I wish I could have warned you."

"That's okay, Face. You didn't know."

Face checked his watch, "I gotta take my meds. Think I'll just go to bed. You staying tonight?"

Dane rose from the sofa and took a step toward him. Face reacted immediately, turning away and headed for the kitchen. He set his glass in the sink. _Did I just imagine that?_ He took a breath and let it out. Walking back into the living room Dane stood between him and the stairs.

"I think the toothbrush you used is still on the sink upstairs and you remember which room it is, first one on the right." _Not on the left. That's where I'm sleeping_. He walked up to Dane heading for the stairs, "Excuse me." For the briefest moment Dane looked him in the eye, searching, first his left then right. In his lower periphery he could see Dane's hand come out of his pocket and hover. Face settled on an expression he used while obtaining special orders for Hannibal. A look of indifference. Dane stepped aside. "Goodnight, Dane."

"Goodnight."

Face closed the bedroom door behind him and went straight for his meds. Finishing in the bathroom he lay down on the bed still in his clothes. _Can't really ask him to leave, he didn't actually make a move on me......I gotta get outta here._ He toed off his shoes and was sitting up to pull his sweater when he heard a knock on his door. _I don't want to deal with this._ Padding from the bed he cracked the door, looking around it, "Did you need something, Dane?"

"Col. Smith is on the phone."

He was flustered and had forgotten to take the phone upstairs with him. "Okay, thanks." Opening the door he started to push past, but Dane held the phone up. Taking it he said, "Thanks ... Goodnight," as he stepped back and closed the door.

"John?"

"Another slumber party?"

 _Oh god, don't be like this now._ He made his way to the bathroom, "John, I gotta get out of here," closing the door behind him.

"What's your hurry?"

"John, stop!" He ran his hand through his hair, "Please."

"Look Face you know we're working on this. Why are you calling me? Sounds like you're killing time just fine?"

"No! That's ... That's not it!"

"You put a call in for me and you have your new friend answer the phone. I don't need to know ...."

"Will you just stop? Jeezus, I can't deal with jealousy on top of everything else." Even through the static Hannibal heard a quiver when he said, "I need you John. I need your help to get out of here."

Hannibal came up short. What the hell was he thinking talking like that on an unsecured line? Not to mention jumping all over Face again, putting him in a position of having to say something compromising. "I have excuses if you want to hear them, or we can start over."

"It's okay Hannibal. I know you just got back to base and you're tired. And this whole fuckin' situation is for shit!" His voice was still wavering. There was stinging behind his eyes and a lump was forming in his throat. Face had spent so many years shut down that now when he was presented with his own emotions it sometimes took him a little time to wrangle them under control. It didn't help that for the past few months he had been teetering on the edge.

He felt awful. He was screwing things up with John left and right. Being needy. That's the last thing Hannibal wants. He wasn't trying to rub his friendship with Dane in his face, besides, what about Dane? _Was he really coming on to me? Don't tell Hannibal about that. Maybe I'm just panicking. That's not good either. How will I be able function on a mission?_ This brought the tears in earnest with a barely audible choked back sob.

But Hannibal heard it. "Face? Are you alright?"

"No. I'm not. I just got back from dinner not too long ago...." He poured out all that had transpired at the restaurant. Then before he knew it he blurted out, "And I think Dane just made a pass at me, but I'm not sure. I don't know if he's just subtle or if I'm imagining things. I just want to get out of here." His head was down and tears were dripping off his nose. "I'm sorry, Hannibal. I'm sorry for all of it. For getting sick, for having to come back here, for...." He didn't know how his voice had become more steady as the tears increased.

"Okay. Okay enough. Now _you_ stop it. Listen to me Face. I want you to get a good night's sleep, even if that means you're late for work in the morning. Better yet, call in and say you're going to work from home. You need to pull yourself together. You will behave as though you have been permanently reassigned. You will work on your outline or whatever the hell it is you're supposed to be doing. Understand?"

"Yeah," he understood. Heard him loud and clear. _Man up_.

"Hang in there, Kid. As soon as I hang up I'm going to talk to Russ."

"Okay." That helped. "Will you hold on a second?"

"Sure, Kid."

Face put the phone down, pulled toilet paper off the roll and blew his nose, "Okay. I'm back."

"Are you in the bathroom again?"

"Yeah."

Hannibal chuckled. Temp could hear the smile in his voice, "Look in the medicine cabinet. On the top shelf is a pain killer bottle. Don't know if it's aspirin, acetaminophen or what. Do you see it?"

"Yeah I got it."

"There should be little, pink, oval pills in it."

"Yeah?" Temp wasn't so sure about this.

"It's Ambien. Take half of one with a couple of swallows of water. It'll help you sleep. Don't take a whole one, you'll be groggy in the morning. I'll call you back later."

"But if I take this I won't hear the phone ring."

"I won't call you again for another ten to twelve hours. Get some sleep Temp."

"Okay." He sniffed again. "Stay safe, John."

"Okay, Kid. I'll talk with you later. Now go get some sleep. I'm going to fix this."


	21. Chapter 21

When Face woke he was alone. There was a note on the coffee maker from Dane saying he left early and didn't want to disturb him. _Well there's one bullet dodged for the morning_. He pulled out the coffee maker basket to throw away yesterday's grounds and found fresh in it, the water reservoir had been filled too. Dane. He flipped the on switch.

Taking his mug of coffee he retrieved his phone and called Jorge to tell him he would be working from home. He was surprised by the time. It was close to 1000. He couldn't remember the last time he slept that late. Back upstairs he threw the sheets and blankets back over the bed, gathered clothes and took a shower. As he dried himself he saw the toilet paper he had used to blow his nose the night before in the waste basket.

The sleeping tablet had done its job and he felt much better in the light of day. Just needed rest, but what did that say about him? If he couldn't function under stressful conditions when he was tired how could he honestly expect to be deployed? He'd be a liability to the team. When Hannibal called they would need to discuss it. Shit. He really wasn't ready to return to the team.

He had just poured a fresh cup of coffee and was opening his briefcase when the phone rang. Hannibal took over immediately, "Face, I want you to prepare to deploy. Pack and make a list of your notifications and preparations for the house. You'll need to be ready to leave on one day's notice. I know how you always have last minute things you've forgotten, you won't have time for that this time. You have a minimum of three days. So two days to get your act together and one to set it all in motion. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I can do that. What's going on."

"In a nutshell, Russ has called General Ryland direct. Ryland is over Tomlinson. He quite persuasively argued your assignment to Tomlinson was never to be perceived as anything but temporary; not in any way, shape or form. You have passed on your knowledge, but your talents are better utilized in the field than in continuing to map out how to teach others.

"Ryland spoke with Tomlinson who wanted you to complete the syllabus for this second phase. Ryland said it was only right you finish it since you had already agreed to do it. Russ said the Major should have thought of that before he tried not just poaching you, but making a public announcement about it." Hannibal was enjoying this. "So pack your bag, Kid."

"Really? Three days?" Face was staring, unseeing, at a kitchen cabinet.

"It could be a day or two longer, but that's it."

"John, I have to tell you I'm worried."

"If you're talking about Will, don't be. Russ made it very clear you only brought this up in a conversation and had no idea there was a conflict about it. So stick with you and I were talking as we have periodically since the team deployed. I said nothing to you, but went immediately to Russ. Okay?"

"Okay, but that's not what I was talking about."

"Talk to me, Temp."

"Last night? I was so tired....I made more of an issue about this than I should have."

"What are you saying? Don't tell me you changed your mind about wanting out of there now. If so, it's too late. We can't...."

"No! No, that's not it at all." He didn't know how to say this right, "I shouldn't have let myself get so upset that I ended up crying and blubbering in your ear. That's not me and...."

"Temp, I know that's not you. You're still not one hundred percent. I know better than anyone you get overwhelmed when you're sick. You're coming off a major illness. I understand."

"But how can I go there and be part of the team if I can't get my shit together?"

"Listen. As your CO, I am of the opinion the best place for you right now is here. It is my opinion you are under stress from being separated from what you are most familiar. I feel the best thing for you now is to reacclimate yourself to being in this location. You have been on light duty and away from your true position in the Army long enough. It is time for you to return to where you are needed most. I'm not going to throw you in the deep end. You are going to be eased back in gradually. We will work toward fitting you into the best position for you and for the U.S. Army. No matter how you look at it you are returning to Iraq. It's an order, Lieutenant. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." He understood. He would be going back to the desert, but Hannibal hadn't said he would rejoin the team.

"Temp, I've already discussed this with Russ. He agrees with me that it is better to have you with us to finish your recuperation. It's all good."

When Face made no reply Hannibal asked, "Do you want me to fly back and travel with you?"

"No, I'll be alright."

"Would you like me to send Murdock?"

"No, really, I'll be fine."

"Okay, I'll talk to you in the next few days. I would suggest you go clean out your desk and locker."

"When can I tell people."

"It's a done deal. Tell whomever you want."

"Thank you, Hannibal. I mean it, thank you."

Hannibal chuckled, "You trying to send me into tears?"

"Don't make fun of me."

"Couldn't help myself, Kid. I have to go. I'll talk to you in a day or two."

"Stay...."

"I know, stay safe. I will. Bye Kid."

"Bye Hannibal."

 

"I'm very sorry to hear this. I thought you were going to be here with us for good," Mike was trying to sort it out. It was an abrupt change from the announcement only the night before.

"Hannibal and General Morrison felt I'm better suited to being in the field than writing course descriptions. The plan had always been for me to return to my unit when I was cleared for deployment." Face finished emptying his locker and removed his padlock, dropping it in the duffel along with the contents of the locker and his desk.

Without warning Jorge had him in a bear hug, "I'm going to miss you muchacho."

"Did I tell you my best friend, who's over in Iraq, calls me that too?"

"I call everybody that," said Jorge with a smile.

"Actually, so does he." They all laughed.

Mike dropped his hand on Face's shoulder, "We made a great team, the three of us."

"What do you think of the three new recruits?" Face asked.

"Michelle and Dane have both come to say they wouldn't be able to join us. But that's okay. I had my doubts about Michelle being able to stomach some of the people we'll be getting through here. And Dane has always made it known he wants to be a Ranger."

Face was nodding, "My thoughts exactly. I hope the Captain can do it though. I think he'd be great. He's so easy going. Be easy to work with."

"We were thinking that too," added Mike.

"Will you be by to say goodbye to the class?" asked Jorge.

"I hope to tomorrow. What I'm wondering from you guys is if we can go over notes I made on Phase I and to give you what I've worked up so far for Phase II?"

They looked at each other and shrugged. Jorge spoke, "When?"

"Now? I'll buy you lunch." Face flashed a smile.

Mike laughed, "Always heard it was hard to say 'no' to the Faceman. Sure I'm game."

Jorge added, "I'm game too, but only if you let me buy you a drink when we finish."

"Deal." Face followed Mike out of the locker room. Jorge was bringing up the rear already picking through his keys to lock up behind them.

In his car Face made the call he was most dreading. Will's assistant informed him the Major wasn't available, but was happy to make an appointment for him in the morning. Face told him that the time would work fine and he would be there at 0900.

The three men made short work of going through the paperwork. While they still had him, Mike and Jorge bounced ideas of their own off of him. He was surprised it was still light when they stepped outside. When he got home he called Dane. Face wanted to tell him beforehand, not with the rest of the group.

"I wanted to let you know I'll be leaving in a few days." There was silence on the other end of the line. "I'll be stopping in tomorrow to say goodbye to the rest of the class, but I wouldn't have felt right not telling you ahead." Still nothing. "Dane? You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." There was a pause. "Guess I knew it was coming, but I kinda wished it wouldn't."

"I'm sorry Dane, but I gotta get back to my unit. You understand, don't ya?"

"Of course I do. Like I said, just wish it wasn't so."

"I've got a lot to do before I go, so I'll be busy all day tomorrow. But I don't have anything going on in the evening. Would you like to go out for a couple of drinks?"

Dane was quiet again.

"That's okay, I wanted to offer...."

"No, that sounds good. When and where?"

"Can we leave up in the air? Let me see how my day goes?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. 'Night Dane."

"Goodnight, Face."


	22. Chapter 22

In the morning Face was at Will's office early, had five or ten minutes to spare. Walking through the door he approached Will's assistant's desk.

"Good Morning Corporal."

As he started to rise instinctively bringing his hand up to salute, Face waved him to sit again, "Don't get up, Jim." Returning to his seat, the Corporal still threw the salute.

"I'm a little early. Mind if I pour myself a cup of coffee?

With eyes that darted to the Major's closed door then back to Face, Jim said, "You're welcome to coffee, sir. But unfortunately, the Major is unable to keep your appointment. He wishes you a safe trip to Iraq and thanks you for your service."

Temp thought he sounded like a bad actor reading his lines. He looked at Will's door and felt both annoyance and relief. "Well in that case I'll skip the coffee." He extended his hand to the Corporal who stood now and took it in his own, "Thank you for your help, Jim. You really eased me through some of my questionable admin duties." He turned on a genuine smile.

"It was a pleasure working with you, sir. I really enjoyed it. For the rest of my career I'll be able to say I worked one-on-one with the legendary marksman, Lt. "Faceman" Peck. It's been an honor."

Face grinned from ear to ear, "Wow, that was one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me." He could feel himself flushing and looked to the desk. "Good luck to you Jim." Before pulling the door behind him he shot a, "See ya," over his shoulder.

Jim sat back down and thought, _That's what they mean by an officer and a gentleman_.

 

Face headed to the on-base credit union. From there he went to Hannibal's office to clean up some loose ends and let his assistant know, if he didn't already, he would be leaving and not stopping in anymore. After Hannibal's office he made his way to the firing range.

The class was just completing an exercise and were gathered around for discussion while their official scores were totaled when the LT walked up. "How'd everyone do today?" Mike and the Captain looked up at Face's question from the score sheets. Mike threw him a wave and a nod. Temp could see they were in the middle of adding a score. The rest of the group spun toward him and stood at attention. "At ease." Face raised a questioning eyebrow to Jorge. Jorge nodded yes in response. Now would be a good time.

"Before you all get back to what you were doing, I have an announcement." Eyes and ears perked up. "I guess the best way to say this is to get right to the point. I'm going to be returning to Iraq in a few days." There were a couple of "Ohs" and "Aws". He continued, "It's rather short notice and I wish I had a little more time to be able to see your completion ceremony. But I expect there to be lots of pictures taken that can be sent my way." There was assenting murmurs. "I want to tell you how very proud I am of this inaugural class. Not only the quality and talent each of you walked in here with, but also your improvement and new proficiency in not only handling your weapons, but also doing so in some highly stressful and unusual situations. This program isn't for the faint of heart and you have each excelled and performed, quite frankly, beyond my expectations." He laughed a little and smiled which instantly lightened the mood. "I know Mike and Jorge announced the all terrain Phase II and I hope each of you are able to participate in that as well. For those of you that do, I wish you well and good luck." He rubbed his hands together. "So I guess that's it, thank you, everyone."

Jorge started clapping and everyone else quickly joined in.

"Ah man? Don't do that. You're embarrassing me." He walked toward the group in an attempt to exit the stage. The group surged around him and people started putting their hands out to shake his and wish him well. Sgt. Farrell dropped her chin and looked up through her brows in a _"See what you're missing"_ expression. Capt. Johnson commented this was a sudden change of plans, but also mentioned he had accepted the offer to become one of the program's trainers, "If they'll have me," he added with a laugh.

The Brats all approached at once. _I wonder if they all go to the men's room together_ passed through his mind. The accompanying grin appeared to be just for them. "Will you be going back to being Col. Smith's XO?" It struck him that he really didn't know the answer to that question.

"When I talked to Hannibal he said he and the General were going to ease me back into service while I finish recuperating. But I intend to again be his XO then."

Wells was about to get his answer, "Recuperate, sir? Were you injured?"

"No, not this time. I had a bout with meningitis."

"That's not good," one of them said.

"No, it's not. I was pretty sick."

"You said you weren't injured "this time".

"Yeah, my body's just a roadmap of career highlights spelt out in scars," he laughed. Before they could begin romanticizing his injuries he excused himself when he saw Sgt. Law standing off to the side waiting patiently.

"It's been a pleasure Sergeant. Will you be going onto Phase II?"

"Yes sir. I'm also going to accept the Major's offer."

"You are?! I thought you turned it down."

"I had a change of heart. I will enjoy the challenge, sir."

"Good for you! I'll be rooting for you Sergeant." And he really would be. He had a change of heart about her too. He thought he may have missed a quiet strength she possessed that may make her very formidable if given the opportunity to come out of her shell.

"Thank you, sir."

He looked up as she turned away and saw Dane close by.

"Can we take you out for drinks tonight, sir?" It was the Brats all lined up to his left.

He saw Dane's eyes drop to the ground. "I really appreciate the offer, but I have other plans for tonight. But maybe when you're all full fledged Rangers we'll be assigned together or in the same vicinity and we can do it then." This made them all puff up a little bit. It was just a bone, but they didn't know that. They wandered off again and he looked over to Dane again. He pointed at himself then Dane then held his thumb and pinky up to his head in the "I'll call you" mime.

Mike and Jorge approached after all the students had their say. The three all thanked each other again. Face again wished them well with Phase II and they wished him well on deployment.

He slipped out unnoticed and headed home. He needed to check in with the neighbors to let them know he would be leaving and that the house would once again be vacant. He stopped at the grocery store for a couple of days worth of frozen food and found himself in the pet food aisle. A bag of doggy treats shaped like porterhouse steaks caught his eye. So Winslow was on a diet, Mrs. Larson could hand them out sparingly. He grabbed the bag and went to the checkout.

 

Dane had insisted on picking Face up one last time. "Alright, but you're driving the Vette." Getting in the car Temp asked him where he wanted to go and was surprised when Dane said the Waffle House. "Sounds good."

They had a dinner of breakfast and talked about what's in store for Phase II and what maybe in store for Face when he arrived in Iraq. Dane talked about his family and home. Face talked about Murdock and BA. Face had been concerned the night maybe awkward or maudlin, but it was neither. It was two friends enjoying dinner out.

Dane carefully pulled the classic car into the garage next to Hannibal's SUV, while Face held his breath. He exhaled audibly when the engine was turned off making Dane laugh. Face reached up, pressed the garage door remote and had his hand on the door handle when Dane took his wrist. Face turned to look at the young man looking at him.

Dane reached forward and gently held Face across the back of his neck. Face didn't flinch or pull away. But, he did smile and shake his head no. "I'm sorry Dane. I can't. I can't have that kind of relationship with you." Reaching up he removed the hand from his neck. For just a moment he looked at it as he held it in both of his own. He gave it a squeeze and let go. As he opened the car he said, "Come on, Buddy." Inside Face asked if he wanted a beer or soda.

"No. I should get going. I've made enough of an ass of myself."

Face couldn't help laughing, "That's not true."

"You're probably used to having everyone make passes at you, not just the ladies."

Face was still smiling and pulled him into a hug, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too." He stepped away, "Bye Face."

"Hey, not goodbye, see ya later." He kept his hand between Dane's shoulders as he walked him to the door. Watching Dane walk to his own car he heard the phone ring. Face threw him one more smile before closing the door. Dane took a snapshot in his mind.

It was Hannibal calling. Face was scheduled to fly out on Saturday.


	23. Chapter 23

Murdoch and BA approached the helipad just in time to see the Colonel clap his XO on the back. They watched as Face and Hannibal had a minor tug of war over Face's kit before Face snatched hard and hoisted it over his shoulder. There was another on the tarmac, Face never travelled light, that one the Colonel beat the LT to. They saw Hannibal gesture a "this way" guiding them in the direction of his office. 

"Maybe we should give them a little time alone first," ventured the Captain.

"Yeah, I don't wanna be walkin' in on any of that," the Sergeant confirmed watching the two men heading away from them. "There's just some things I don't ever want to see."

"Give them half an hour?"

"They ain't seen each other in close to five months."

"Better give 'em an hour."

"Maybe more."

 

Hannibal stood beside the doorway of his office, hand on the doorknob. Face crossed the threshold and made it almost to Hannibal's desk before he lowered his kit to the floor. Behind him he heard the door close and the click of the lock. Turning he looked on Hannibal who was leaning against the door, hands flat behind him.

"You look good, Kid."

"I feel good."

Hannibal pushed himself off from the door and took two steps forward. His heart dropped and his stomach twisted when Face didn't step forward as well. He stopped where he was. Face wasn't coming to him. It was over. 

He stood a few feet from the door for what felt like ages. His throat was tight and his eyes stung as he whispered, "Oh Temp." 

He wasn't heard. At the same time Face's gaze shifted off to the side, "John? .... Do you still want me?"

You could have knocked Hannibal over with one finger, "Wait. What?"

Face looked back at him, "I mean if you don't, that's okay. I understand. It all happened kind of fast. But I would still like to be part of the team. Can we still be family?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" taking another couple of steps forward. 

Barking at him seemed to give Face a jolt. He jumped almost to attention and his mouth snapped shut.

Advancing a few more steps Hannibal had closed the distance by more than half, "There isn't anything or anyone I want more. I love you."

That shocked Face into motion. He rushed to close the two steps between them. Hannibal barely had time to lift his arms to catch him as Face grasped around his ribs and sank into his neck. Face's body curved into his own. Hannibal took him around his shoulders pressing in with his cheek. He heard quietly, just below his ear, "John."

Hannibal tangled his fingers through Face's hair, working to the back of his head. He took a fistful and eased his head back. He looked over all of Face's features, "How I've missed you."

Temp's lashes were damp. He licked the lower lip of his open mouth, "Every time I talked to you or wrote to you and said to 'stay safe', I was telling you I love you." 

John's throat caught with that. 

With his head tipped back Temp was looking directly into Hannibal's reddened eyes, "Take me."

 

After knocking they waited a minute outside the boss' office door before the scrambling sounds inside abated and it was unlocked and opened. As he turned away going back toward his desk saying, "Come in, gentlemen," they both noticed the hair on the back of Hannibal's head was rather mussed. They stole a quick look at each other. Face was standing next to the Colonel's desk wearing a big grin, running his hand through and patting down his own hair. 

Murdock took one look at him and ran across the room. "Facey!" launching himself at the LT, wrapping arms around his neck and legs around his waist. 

Face stumbled backwards but caught himself before falling, encircling the pilot with his own arms. "Murdock! .... Buddy! I missed you." 

Sliding down off of him the pilot kissed his cheeks up one side and down the other. Face caught sight of BA. With Murdock tucked in under his left arm he extended his right. BA took it and gave it one solid pump before pulling him in for a barely touching, manly hug, complete with plenty of back-slapping. 

"Good to see you bro."

BA backed up and caught sight of Hannibal running his palm down the back of his head. He stopped when he saw BA watching him. Instead he ducked down behind his desk, coming back up with his bottle of scotch and plastic cups. "Have a seat gentlemen."

BA took a step toward the sofa. Noting the throw pillows always found in its corners were on the floor and one of the seat cushions was askew, he suppressed a shudder, but smiled all the same and turned back to take one of the chairs instead. Murdock dragged Face to the sofa and pulled him down to sit next to him, holding his hand all the way.

A sense of completeness overcame BA. They had been fractured by the absence of their LT, but they were whole again. BA always thought of Hannibal as the glue that held them together, but looking on Face smiling and joshing with Murdock he could see that wasn't exactly true. They each had their place, each had a part that interconnected with the rest. A missing piece was a missing piece no matter which of them it was.

The boss laid a hand on his shoulder, taking his attention away from the Captain and LT. Hannibal was smiling down on him as he handed him his scotch. BA accepted it and watched as the Colonel took another to give to Murdock. Before picking up his own he handed one to Face, palming his cheek after the transfer had been made.

Hannibal raised his cup to their LT, "To Face. Welcome home, Kid. Your family missed you."


	24. 2015

**2015**

 

Dane sat alone at the dining table fingering the stem of his wine glass. His dinner plate had been removed without his noticing and a cup and saucer containing steaming coffee set in its place. The white linen covered table sat against the ceiling tall windows giving an ariel view of the stone patio some twenty feet below.

Up lighting secreted within the planting beds lit the area as if by its own power. Beyond the flat flagstone, a path to the beach and the mighty Atlantic Ocean. Sea breezes fluttered and swayed the towering trees surrounding the courtyard. Trees with strategically placed lighting of their own. Their limbs casting shadows below.

If he softened his focus he was able to imagine the shadows were sweeping away time and he could again see the couple as they had been some six years prior. Two men in impeccably tailored dark suits, white shirts glowing beneath dark ties, one red the other possibly blue, no, it was a grey paisley. That night like this, his dinner companion had stepped away to their room here at the French Lic Inn on Little St. Simon's Island.

He had watched the men stroll out to the center of the courtyard, each holding a glass of red wine. They were both lean, both tall; although, one was several inches above the other. He had his arm draped casually across the shoulder of his consort. Engrossed in conversation the taller, presumably older if you could go by the silver hair, dropped his arm revealing a cigar. Bringing it to his mouth he had turned his chest into the arm and shoulder of the other. Dane could tell he didn't want to break the physical contact even for the few seconds it took to drag on his smoke. He thought the man looked familiar, but from this angle couldn't get a decent view.

Returning his arm to his companion it slid downward to the small of his back. His head leaned in and he spoke directly into the younger man's ear, who turned so they were facing each other. The younger man was obviously laughing. With waists together they leaned their chests back from one another, obviously enjoying each other's amiable company.

The younger of the two bent forward slightly and looked like he would spit out the wine he had just taken from his glass after the silver-haired man spoke something more into his ear. As he looked on, it occurred to Dane he was smiling along with the couple as they laughed together. They were so comfortable and happy in each other's company.

They turned away moving to one of the raised garden beds. Their glasses and the cigar were set on the timber frames before they moved to the shadows. Not hidden in total darkness he saw them embrace and kiss. This was no rodeo. It was passionate yet languid. The taller of the two cupped his lover's face in his palm. Dane just made out the younger man lean into the caress before a lingering kiss was pressed to his forehead. He was now being lead by the hand back to the the flower bed.

The silver-haired man handed the younger his wine glass then bent again to retrieve his own and the cigar. They took several steps in Dane's direction and stopped. The older man pointed up and to his right, arm extended, cigar pointing above and behind where Dane sat. They were both peering upward to the roof of the building, perhaps to the stars.

Their faces were clearly visible and his heart had taken several double beats when he saw it was Face and his Colonel, Hannibal. The Colonel draped an arm over Face's shoulder again, his other arm retreating from its point. Both still looking up, Hannibal spoke. Face replied. They looked at each other and burst into more peals of laughter. Face bending forward from the mirth, Hannibal leaning down to watch his lover's face. Upright again, Hannibal dropped his forehead to the side of his LT's head. Before straightening he pressed a kiss there. Heads down they walked toward the side of the inn and out of view.

He recalled too the following day as he carried bags out the front door while his companion completed checking out, a classic Corvette Sting Ray was just pulling away from the entrance. Face was at the wheel wearing his Allyn Scura's. Hannibal was wedged in the corner created by the passenger seat and door, arm resting along the open window with a cigar between his fingers. They no doubt came to the inn to spend a relaxing weekend away from prying eyes during the dying breaths of DADT. In another two years their romance wouldn't need to be secret, but in those two years their lives had taken such a turn keeping their love affair quiet was the least of their problems.

Dane had pined for Face when he hightailed it back to his unit. Repeatedly reliving his embarrassment over hitting on the straight officer. How was he to know when Face said he couldn't have "that kind of relationship" with him it was because he was already in "that kind of relationship" with his CO, the legendary Col. Hannibal Smith?

Face had sent him the occasional e-mail, usually congratulating him on an accomplishment; completing Phase II, graduating from college, becoming a Ranger, but he also sent the random "just writing to say hi". He had even called the week before Dane saw him at the ocean inn. He had asked if Dane would like to join him and Hannibal for a Waffle House breakfast. But Dane couldn't get away, honestly he didn't try all that hard. He didn't want to run into Marlene. She had wanted a little more than he could offer. Of course, now he wishes he had. He hadn't seen or heard from Face again after that weekend and probably never would.

 

"Hey, what you thinking about?"

"Huh?"

"You look miles away." Paul was back from getting his cigarettes from their room. The same room they shared several years back.

"Why don't we go down to that courtyard for you to have your smoke?"

"Sure, let's go," he said extending his hand to Dane.

Paul treated him like royalty and their relationship was solid. They had even talked of marriage. As they reached the door, Paul stepped ahead and opened it for him.

"Paul? I think we need to try to laugh together more. I feel like we've become too serious. At least I have."

Paul was lighting his smoke. Exhaling he slipped his hand in his pants pocket and asked, "What do you want to laugh about?"

"I don't know."

"We could start with each other."

This, of course, got the ball rolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this story, please let me know. Click "kudos" or leave a comment, thanks!


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